


Only He Can Hold Her

by empathyandapathy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton Feels, Clintasha - Freeform, Dark Natasha Romanov, F/M, Natasha Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empathyandapathy/pseuds/empathyandapathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff came to be partners and overcame their haunted pasts, dark present, and unsure future.  Both never thought they could trust anyone, like anyone, let alone love anyone, but prove each other wrong with more strength than they could posses alone.  Starts out a little weak style wise but I swear it gets better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been finished since May 2013 but I just got this account, so yeah. I'll be updating weekly or perhaps a little bit faster, depending on how I'm feeling and such. Please comment or whatnot!

"Barton, you're being assigned to track down and kill the Black Widow," Fury stated in the debriefing room, "She herself is a lethal weapon with a higher kill count than you could imagine. She's been deemed most wanted in SHEILD's radar and must be taken out."

"Yes sir." Clint replied. He was always up for the challenge, but this mission seemed more dangerous than the others, and he couldn't believe he'd be sent there alone.

"We don't know much about this Black Widow," Fury continued, "There are no pictures of her, but we do know roughly how many people she's killed and not all of them were guilty. She's usually assigned to male targets and uses her sex appeal to get them to tell her what she needs to know, then kills them. Most of the time she uses a weapon stashed somewhere on her person, but she will occasionally kiss them with a lipstick that's been laced with cyanide to kill them slowly and painfully." The more Fury described his target, the more Clint was intrigued by her methods of taking people out.

After Fury had given Clint all the information that SHEILD had gathered on the infamous Black Widow, he finally said, "Be careful out there Hawkeye, you can usually tell if something's up with a target, but this one's different. This one's stronger, smarter, more advanced and focused than anything we've seen before. Kill the Black Widow and get out of there, understand?"

"Yes sir. I'll go get my go-bag and be on the jet in two hours." He proceeded to his private room in SHEILD headquarters, something that no one else had, but he was their best assassin so he usually got his way.

On the plane to Moscow, Russia later that day, he read through her file one last time before he would be out in the field, watching her every move, deciding the best time to strike and take her out. He knew that if he succeeded in this mission he would be praised by everyone at SHEILD, even though he was never one for dealing with a lot of attention from others. Glancing over the information that he had been given about the Black Widow's childhood, he started to think about his own childhood and how he came to be Hawkeye.

-He has always been by himself. His mother ran out on him, his brother, and their dad when he was just four years old. A short time later his father became an alcoholic and started to beat Clint and his brother, so they ran away. His brother, Barney, was 13 and Clint was 8. They lived on the streets for a while with a man they had met on their way away from their small town and to the big city. The man had been homeless for some time and didn't want these two boys to go through what he did so he taught them different ways of defending themselves from the thugs that so enjoyed taking advantage of those less fortunate. Barney excelled in persuading his way out of potentially harmful situations. He was always the more conniving one of the two. Clint himself was never one for many words so the man had to teach him how to fight. He was good in hand to hand combat, and knew his way around a gun, but what he really shined in was archery. He was left handed so that presented a challenge for the man trying to teach him but Clint caught on fast nonetheless. 

Countless days were spent with an old rickety bow and arrows fashioned out of whatever they could find on the streets. When Clint turned 16 the man who had saved his life passed away from some unknown illness. Barney couldn't take Clint shutting him out so he left. Clint was all alone, so he decided to do something heroic for the people he called his family for 8 years. He broke into a fish and game store, where he laid eyes on the most beautiful bow he had ever seen in his life. It was made of a sleek, hard black plastic, the quiver being made of the same. He tested them out quickly in the store before taking almost 50 arrows in his large duffel bag. He began to take out low level gang members, working his way up to the highest ranking man in the group. Eventually, SHEILD caught on to the record of the left handed archer and decided to give him a chance to turn his life around. Reluctant at first, he finally decided that there was nothing for him in his current state so he became a SHEILD agent, and out-shone even high level agents. He earned the alias Hawkeye because of his sniper-like accuracy with his bow and arrow from distances farther than 1000 yards. He was usually on single missions that didn't require information to be extracted from the target before take-down, most of the time because the target was too dangerous to take to the SHEILD headquarters. This was no exception.-

Phil Coulson, Clint's handler, was stationed at a safe-house in Moscow so that he could keep close tabs on the progression of the mission. He had pinpointed the location of the Black Widow. Clint was sent there to gather intel on her habits and follow her until he found the right time to strike, and also to get a picture of her for the files so that everyone would know what the Black Widow looked like.

Luckily, the first night of the stake-out proved to be successful. Agent Barton managed to slip into the main building of the Red Room, whom the Black Widow worked for. There she was, the only woman in a room full of men, most of them keeping a safe distance from the assassin, knowing what she could do if they made a wrong move. Clint didn't understand much Russian, but he did catch the information he needed. She was being sent to Vasilievsky Island, just across the river, to take out the president of the college. There would be about 15,000 students on the island at the time so using a firearm would be too conspicuous. She was told instead to use her cyanide laced lipstick, the venom of the Black Widow. Hawkeye couldn't manage to get a picture of her because there were too many people and he didn't want to risk getting caught. He decided to get out of the building before he would be seen by one of the guards keeping watch on these meetings between the top assassin, and the leader of the Red Room, Ivan Petrovitch. He got back to the safe-house where Coulson was waiting for him and the information he got on the Black Widow's whereabouts. He needed to take her out before she was able to get her hands on the president of the college on Vasilievsky Island, who had somehow gotten on the top of the Red Room's to-kill list.

The next day Agent Clint Barton, not being called the best for nothing, quickly found the location of the Black Widow, he hated calling her that but he didn't know her name so he didn't have a choice. He watched her for a while, observing her movements, body language, facial expressions, all of it. He didn't usually do this with his targets but this one made him wonder. He had heard what SHEILD knew about her childhood, but it wasn't much information because she was a secretive person at heart, all assassins are. Not to mention she worked for the Red Room that made up most of their assassins' histories. He knew how incredibly different he and the Black Widow were, but he couldn't help but sympathize with her when he saw the way she let down her wall, even if just a small bit, after everyone in the Red Room left her current location, just waiting for her to take down her target. Except Hawkeye was there to stop it.

He sat up in the rafters of the basement of the Red Room's main building, still wondering how he managed to get in there twice without being noticed. His arrow was trained to her heart when she looked up. At him. How could she know he was there? He was surrounded in complete darkness and had not made a noise in the three hours he had been there. She was good, he guessed; she was aware of all of her surroundings at all times, knowing that sooner or later someone would be after her head.

"Стреляй в меня" was all she said. (Shoot me)

He kept his aim locked on her heart and said nothing in return. He looked at her standing with her body square towards him as if she wanted her killer to have the best shot possible, as if she welcomed death to her doorstep with a smile on her face. Except there was no smile in reality. Her expression was austere, hard, calculating. They both stayed like that for what seemed to be hours. Neither of them saying anything or moving at all.

He saw something flash in her hard, green eyes ever so briefly. He couldn't put a finger on it; rage?, hatred?, fear? No, it couldn't be fear, she was the Black Widow, nothing scared her, not even death. There it was again, definitely fear. But of what? He had just made his decision on what he had to do when she broke the silence.

"You must be an American. You certainly are not Russian or you would have killed me the first chance you got." She eventually said in perfect English. She was taunting him, wanting him to shoot her, to end her life that she secretly hated. She hated everything that she was, what she had become.

Surprised and slightly offended by the sneering tone she used, Clint aimed again to make sure he wouldn't miss and within seconds his arrow was flying through the air towards her body. She fell to the ground as blood started slowly seeping out of her chest. 'Wait, this is not enough blood for someone who was just shot in the heart,' she thought. Yet there was the arrow, sticking out of her chest, causing her breathing to become shallow. She was still awake when she saw her killer jump down from the rafters and lean over her body to pick her up. 'Hawkeye.' she though, 'He never misses a shot and yet here I am, alive.'

Agent Barton spoke aloud to the receiver in his ear to address his handler, "Coulson, there's been a change of plans."

The safe-house was fully equipped with all of the medical supplies needed to patch up the wound that inflicted on his 'enemy'. He picked her up suddenly without caring to think about the arrow sticking our of her body. She hated being touched by anyone, let alone handled like a child. She lost consciousness after trying to put up a fight when he was carrying her out of the Red Room through the tunnel that he had discovered. She would have killed him had she not been compromised with his arrow. When they got to the safe-house Phil Coulson was surprised, for lack of a better word. "W-WHAT THE HELL BARTON! YOU CAN'T JUST BRING THE MOST DANGEROUS RUSSIAN ASSASSIN INTO OUR SAFE-HOUSE!" Coulson managed to get out after the initial shock of seeing the red-headed assassin unconscious in Clint's arms.

"What did you think when I said there was a change of plans?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that you'd be holding off your attack for now?!" Coulson replied. He was always the one who thought logically in this pair.

"Right." Clint said, realizing the double meaning of his words. "Well we need to get her cleaned up and get this arrow out of her before it does any more damage."

"You missed her heart." Coulson stated.

Clint simply scoffed and smiled slightly at his handler's observation.

The next thing she knows, she's strapped down to a hospital bed in a stark white room with fluorescent lights bright enough to make the sun envious. This reminded her of her childhood in the testing labs of the Red Room. Needles, drugs, mind-numbing serums, performance enhancers, countless surgeries. The Red Room prodded and tested, all the while brainwashing her to think she was someone she wasn't, making her forget memories of childhood, family, love. She hated hospital beds and if it weren't for the sedative and the straps that were tied too tight around her wrists and ankles, she would be defending herself against everyone that tried to step foot near her, well, not so much defending as attacking and killing. That's all she was, a killing machine. She was taught to kill mercilessly since age 5 and has done so ever since. She wondered why this American had chosen to save her life, she's never done anything good in her short 21 years, and did not expect to live very long in this line of work.

She knew there were cameras watching her every move, but she couldn't help trying to free herself from the ties that held her to this goddamned bed. Suddenly, seven doctors came rushing into the room with needles, scalpels, and every other medical supply she could think of. She tried not to let her austere attitude fall but her instincts took over without her permission, which just made her even more mad.

"Нет! Отойди от меня вы больны ублюдки! Я бы скорее умереть, прежде чем вы кладете руку на меня!" (No! Get away from me you sick bastards! I would rather die before you lay a hand on me!) She loudly hissed in Russian, making everyone in the room stop what they were doing immediately, even though none of them understood what she had said. One of the more courageous doctors silently took out a syringe containing a heavy sedative and stuck it into her arm while she screamed, trashed, kicked, anything that might free her of this hell she's been brought into.

She looked to her left as the sedative started to take affect, still moving uncontrollably, and through the window her eyes locked with ones that were a dark, enticing, almost comforting shade of gray. Those eyes were the last thing she saw before the sedative knocked her out.


	2. Chapter 2

SHEILD really kept to protocol when it came to taking on a foreign agent. At the beginning of the 4 weeks of intense interrogations, The Black Widow revealed her name to be Natalia Alianovna Romanova. She told them about the Red Room, Ivan Petrovitch, how he took pretty young girls from orphanages and trained them to be killing machines. She was given countless serums to make her the best she could be, and to make her forget everything about herself. She told Fury that she didn't know what many of them did, which was true, but it took him a while to believe her. He still didn't trust her and wondered every minute of every day why in the hell did Barton choose to let this one live.

Natalia was considered the biggest security risk to SHEILD besides an attack from an outside force. She was monitored 24/7 by means of cameras that were positioned throughout the entire base. She became quite a spectacle walking through the halls of SHEILD. Everywhere she went she was escorted by at least 3 of the best security guards and agents. Long, fiery, curly red hair framed a stone cold face. The way she walked was graceful, silent, yet exuded an inordinate amount of power for someone so small compared to the large men she was forced to walk around with. Her beautiful green eyes were what really caught attention. If looks could kill, the entirety of the base would be dead.

No one particularly wanted to be in her presence, that was, except Clint Barton. He knew there was something different about her that no one else could see. He knew that most of the agents here had had relatively quiet and normal childhoods, but he also knew that she had an extremely painful one, if you even want to call it a childhood. He could relate to that.

The face she wore scared even Fury at some times. He didn't really know if he could trust her, even though Barton had somehow grown attached to the ruthless Russian assassin. What he knew for certain was that he needed someone like her on his side, and if he let her go she could go back to the Red Room and possibly undermine SHEILD altogether. The Council wasn't to keen on the idea of an ex-russian assassin working for them, but when Fury told them his findings, they reluctantly agreed to give her a test run. Fury had told them that while cold, she was the best at what she did, and she didn't want to go back to the Red Room and would rather die before being under the control of Ivan Petrovitch again.

SHEILD knew that she couldn't keep her Russian-given name, so they worked with her to come up with one she could easily adjust to, but also was different enough from her original name to keep the Red Room off her heels. They finally came to an agreement on Natasha Romanoff. Agent Natasha Romanoff. She like the sound of that.

When the newly named Natasha was still in interrogation, Clint was sent out on simple assignments that were close by to occupy his time, but also allowed Fury to be able to contact him if something took a wrong turn with The Black Widow. He was relieved to hear that she would be accepted as a SHEILD agent, under one condition: he had to be her partner, because he seemed to be the only one to be able to handle himself around her. Everyone else would have tried to kill her in fear of her killing them first.

Once it was finalized that she was in fact a true SHIELD agent, she no longer had to walk around with burly men all day. Both Fury and the Council wanted to keep a close watch on Clint and Natasha, just to make sure the seemingly heartless Russian didn't make any moves to kill their best agent. They were allowed to train together whenever they wanted, going in and out of the gym, shooting range, and simulation areas as they pleased. During their sparring sessions is where she got most of her pleasure from, sure she loved shooting guns and hitting the target every time, but to use your body as a weapon was a different feeling entirely.

Their first sparring match didn't go as Clint had planned, Natasha kind of took that one over within 30 seconds of stepping onto the mats.

"Alright Romanoff," Clint said with a mildly teasing tone, "the easiest way to take down a target bigger than you at close range is to hit the-"

He suddenly found himself pinned to the floor faster that he could register that she had even touched him.

"I know how to fight men, Barton, I'm Russian." She replied coldly, letting him pick himself off the ground, no way in hell was she showing him sympathy even if she did owe him a debt. "What we need to do instead of babying me is learn how each other moves so we can actually be successful in the field."

More cold responses from the Black Widow. Great.

They ran drill after drill and whenever Clint did something Natasha didn't like she would pin him and tell him to do it again, "And do it right this time" She would call over her shoulder as she took her place in the ring.

Over time, their sparring matches accumulated quite an audience, mostly junior agents, but quite a few senior agents as well. The way they moved together yet independently at the same time, dodging each others strikes just in the nick of time while throwing an unexpected punch here or there, all at the speed of light. Fury started showing up to watch them more and more. He wanted - no - needed to see these two working together. Never in all his years of being the spy had he ever seen a pair of people so evenly matched but so different at the same time.

Clint was strong and dominant, but that wasn't to say that Natasha was weak and submissive. She was fast and light on her feet, and she knew exactly what Clint was going to do before he did. They were both powerful in their own right, but it did seem that Natasha won the matches most of the time.

She would pin Clint down to the floor and he could feel her press his wrists to the mat and hold his legs down with her own. If Clint Barton couldn't pin Natasha, no one had a chance. Even though he didn't come out on top of these matches, he didn't mind his view from below. Over the months that they spent training before the Council deemed Natasha suitable for missions, Clint tried hard to suppress the thoughts that kept running through his head every time he saw Natasha. She was his partner for God's sake! And she sure as hell didn't feel the same way.

Natasha wasn't stupid, she was always aware of her surroundings and could read people like a book and knew something was up with her partner. Clint was a little harder to read though She could always tell when he was trying to hide something from her but she could never really put a finger on it yet. Or maybe she just didn't want to come to terms with how she knew he felt. She on the other hand, was the Black Widow, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, she did not feel anything but power and anger. There was no way she was going to let herself fall into the arms of the ruggedly handsome archer that she now called her partner. Yes, he did have sandy blonde hair that came up to a point in the center in a way that she had never seen before, and when she pinned him down she could feel every well sculpted muscle in his body. And those eyes, they were so mysterious that if she were anyone else, she would have jumped him the first chance she got. But she reminded herself that she is not normal, she can't and won't let herself be distracted on missions or even on base.

They were both attracted to each other, which was to be expected because neither of them were even close to being remotely homely looking. Though neither of them wanted to admit it. All the women on base wanted a chance to spar with Clint Barton, or to just be close to him for any period of time really. His back was built like no one else's. Rippling yet lean muscles were the highlight of looking at him. His personality had become more lighthearted over the years as he realized that life doesn't always throw you a curveball. The cheery attitude did not help in repelling hopeless junior agents.

Natasha was a different story. All the men on base thought she was drop dead gorgeous, everything about her physique was perfect, but they were all too afraid of her to look at her for any elongated period of time. They knew she knew when people glanced at her and would probably kill them if she caught them making googly eyes at her.

 

"Hey Nat!" She shot her annoying partner a look that said Don't call me Nat. "Natasha-" He said more warily. "So, lunch today?" God, this guy had a two second rebound rate.

"I not hungry, I'm going to read." She said darkly. She was about to turn around and walk away when he continued to talk. Bastard.

"You need to eat Natasha, we can't just go around skipping meals when we have such dangerous jobs to do." He said with a concerned look on his face.

She though about it for a second and then decided it wouldn't kill her. Without a word she started walking towards the cafeteria with Clint Barton close behind. She really did hate going to such public places where everyone knew who she was. Even after the 6 months she's been on the base, people still didn't stop staring at her with expressions mixed between amazement and fear for their lives. It was stupid that they thought she was going to kill them, the only person who got on her nerves constantly was Barton, and she hadn't killed him yet.

Once they had gotten their two-star-restaurant-food she started to lead them to a secluded corner of the cafeteria, when her partner stopped her by saying, "Natasha, if you don't make a genuine effort to try to be accepted around here, people are going to continue to think you're going to kill them."

"Fine." Was all she said in response. She really hated socializing.

He lead her to where he wanted to sit. They sat at a table right smack dab in the middle of junior agent territory. She made a mental note to kick his ass for this later.

"OHMYGOD guys! That's Natasha Romanoff" One of the newbies said, whispering her name like she wouldn't be able to hear them. Idiot.

"Shhhhh Becca! She can probably hear you!" One of her friends warned her, and she was right to do so. If they kept up this gossiping she was going to have to do something about it.

"Natasha calm down, they've never seen you before and you are quite a sight for most people." Clint said, trying to distract his silent partner with petty compliments. "I think it's the hair."

"Shut up and eat, Barton."

"Not until you have a humane conversation with me Romanoff." He chose his words carefully when he said humane, they usually ended talking about the different missions they've been on and what they were going to do to Fury if he kept them here any longer.

"Why?"

"So people will stop making fun of me for having a Russian robot as my partner." She shot him a warning look. "Not that anyone's ever said that..."

"Nice try Barton, but you'll have to lie a little better for me to believe you next time." Every time she opened her mouth to talk to him it was like daggers, but hey, at least she was talking to him. That's more that you could say for anyone else here.

"Ouch, Tasha." He said with a hand over his heart. What was with all the nicknames today?

"Call me one more nickname, Barton, and I swear I'll throw this knife at your head, and you know I never miss." She said pretty jokingly, instead of her usual threatening tone, but also loud enough for the junior agents to hear. She instantly regretted that statement when everyone around her stopped talking from the shock of what they just heard.

Suddenly, Coulson walked up and put a calming hand on Natasha's shoulder. "Romanoff, if you're going to talk like that I'm going to have to tape your mouth shut." He was too much like her partner for her liking.

"You think that'd work? This one never shuts up, she'd probably end up talking a hole through the tape!" Clint suddenly exclaimed, rolling his head around in an overdramatic fashion.

Both Natasha and Coulson shot him a look as to say, Not funny, asshole. Well, the asshole part was just Natasha but you know, she does what she wants. Clint could tell that Coulson was growing on Natasha, and his presence right now was helping the new kids adjust to her as well.

Turning around to the countless tables of fresh agents, Coulson had a bit of a press release moment. "Alright, nothing to see here, no one's going to die. Today at least." He said with a wink to the two spies he was just conversing with.

Before the room had time to come to terms with what just happened, Clint decided to annoy Natasha one more time and show the newbies that she isn't as insane as they think.

"So Natasha, dinner at my place tonight?!" He basically screamed with a lopsided grin on his face. Her reply was nothing out of the ordinary and he laughed as the words came out of her mouth.

"Go fuck yourself Barton."


	3. Chapter 3

Fury really didn't want to be the one to deliver the news to Natasha that she wouldn't have the room to herself anymore, but unfortunately, he had to.

"Romanoff, there comes a time when everyone has to accept that they can't always be by themselves." He started as he carefully approached the agent in the gym. She had been sparring with Agent Barton so she should be out of breath but she wasn't. He'd have to remember to ask her about that later.

"There has been a large influx of new agents to this base, and they're already being tripled up in rooms only meant for one person." He continued, trying to get her to understand that there was no way around her current situation.

"What are you getting at Fury" Natasha said sternly. She didn't like when people tried to beat around the bush with information.

"You're getting a roommate."

She froze. A roommate? They really wanted her to be living in close quarters with someone she didn't know the slightest bit about?

"You want to put some trainee in a room with a highly feared ex-russian assassin?" Clint asked warily. What the fuck was Fury thinking?

"No," Fury continued, eyes never leaving Natasha so he could gage her reaction. "She's recently been made senior agent and has been one of SHEILDS' best since she arrived here two and a half years ago."

Natasha though about that for a short while. 'Only two and a half years here and she's already a senior agent?' Well, it had only taken Natasha 7 months, so she couldn't be jealous.

"When does she move in?" Natasha asked in a calm tone that neither Fury nor Clint was expecting.

"Well, tonight if things go according to plan. She's on her way here to meet you know so you can get acquainted - or whatever it is you do when you meet people." Fury replied, and if as on cue, her new roommate walked through the doors into the gym and over to her. She was taller than expected, with long, dark hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with both happiness and intensity.

"Hello Agent Romanoff, I'm Agent-"

"Borg?" Clint interrupted as he recognized the person who had the luck of being Natasha's new roommate.

"Not anymore Agent Barton," She began in her slight Spanish accent. "It's Agent Guiteras now."

"Why'd you do that?" Clint asked, obviously puzzled at her last name change. "Did you get married?!"

She held up her left hand to reveal an empty ring finger. She had lightened up a bit by now. "Wrong again Barton. I got tired of people making idiotic Star-Trek jokes about my last name and my back, so I decided to take my mother's maiden name when I was promoted."

Fury decided to move this little meet and greet along. "Anyway, Barton would you head to the conference room with me and let these two figure out living arrangements? You're being sent on a mission in two days, with Romanoff."

Both Clint and Natasha let out a huge sigh of relief. They've been cooped up here for far too long, and they were starting to get irritated.

"Sure thing boss." Clint said before turning to Natasha. "And Natasha, please don't threaten your new roommate." He whispered in her ear in a joking tone, but he hoped she got the hint of seriousness. She promptly slapped him in the back of her head with one of her surprisingly strong hands.

"Go away Barton." She snapped before putting on a calm face and turning to face Agent Guiteras.

"Sorry about Barton, he's an ass. But it's nice to meet you Agent Guiteras." Natasha said half-heartedly. It was going to take time to adjust to not having solitude.

"Likewise Agent Romanoff." Guiteras said with warm smile on her face. She had no idea how she was going to survive living with the infamous Black Widow. At least she was going on a mission soon, let's hope it's a long one.

Later on in the conference room, Fury started to tell Natasha and Clint about the two week long mission they were being sent on.

"I was going to give you two a simple mission to let you warm up to each other, but something more important came up."

"You know that even a simple mission wouldn't have been so simple with these two around, Director." Coulson interjected. He now had the lovely responsibility of being the handler for both agents. This is going to be...interesting. He though to himself.

"That's why I decided to give them the more important mission, Coulson." Turning back to the two agents sitting across the table from him, who were not-so-patiently waiting to be sent out on a mission, he continued, "I need you two to take down a corrupt police department in Texas that is completely run by the Mexican drug cartel who calls themselves Los Zetas. No one in the department is to be taken out except Sheriff Velasquez. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Natasha answered for both of them. "But how are we going to get into a drug infested police department? I doubt their hiring anyone at the moment."

"Well, Velasquez is quite the ladies man. That seems to be your only option at this point agents. Once you get your target into a compromised situation, take him out quietly and get the hell out of there. We don't need the largest Mexican drug cartel on your asses."

"So wait," Clint began, "Romanoff has to be the bait, so what do I do?"

"You keep watch and take out any cartel members that stand guard around Velasquez on the night you decide to take him down. You'll be leaving Friday morning and I expect you two to be at the party that Los Zetas are holding that night. Meanwhile, get caught up on at least the basics of their way of life so you don't seem like outsiders and throw them off." Once Fury was done briefing them on their assignment, he got to wondering how well these two were going to work in the field. He'd never admit it, but he was pretty nervous.

Walking down the hall back to the housing section of base, Clint asked Natasha a worried question. "Fury seemed pretty adamant that you make this guy want to jump into bed with you, are you okay with that?"

"In case you've forgotten, that's what I do, Barton." Her dark response threw him off, but he didn't press any farther as he saw her put her walls back up in preparation for their first mission together.

Neither of them slept or spoke on the five hour flight to Texas, or the two hour drive to the town they'd be staying in. Both of them were going over in their heads what they had planned on doing tonight.

Two hours later, Natasha had successfully weaseled her way into the dirty party, with Clint on the rooftop of the adjacent building. He was excited to see her in action, but also thought she might be a little out of practice since she hasn't been on a mission in seven months. Little did he know that she was practicing on him, and on most of the other attractive agents at SHEILD, even if it was just for her own enjoyment.

Clint sat unseen by the hoards of cartel body guards that surrounded the building. He was connected to Natasha by invisible communicators hidden in both their ears. He could sort of see what was going on in the party through grimy windows but he was blind to most of the action, something he was definitely not used to. He heard everything that was going on around his partner, and when she walked up to their target, she broke out in perfectly fluent Spanish. Clint was taken aback at his partner's ability to never stop surprising him.

"Natasha, I didn't know you spoke Spanish, I don't think that's in your file..." Clint said into his communicator. Natasha didn't answer, which was to be expected since she was engaging their target in a presumable sultry conversation. He understood some of what she was saying, but only when she spoke slowly. All of a sudden she dropped her voice lower and whispered into the target's ear, lingering on each word as if it were worth her life.

"Cuando estamos en privado, haré cosas sucias que no sabes. Voy a-" Silence. She had turned off her communicator, she didn't want her partner to hear the things she had to say in order to carry out their mission. Sometimes she really hated being the bait for disgusting men, and even more now that she met one she could finally respect. She discretely turned her earpiece back on when she finished luring her target away from the party.

Moments later, Clint saw Natasha and Velasquez leave the building, and he shoved her up against a wall. Clint started to get a bad feeling about this so he decided to make sure she was okay before he needed to get off the roof and save her himself.

"Natasha, you okay down there?" She couldn't answer because she was in close contact with the target. Of course. Why didn't he remember that? "Uh- Natasha, blink twice if this is getting dangerous." He said trying to come up with a way to get an answer out of her. She blinked, but only once, out of necessity. He found that little gesture somewhat comforting, but he was still uneasy.

Velasquez quickly led Natasha to the house next door to that party, and a large group of guards followed them. Clint had his targets in sight, and Natasha had hers. She trailed behind him a bit, pretending to admire the house and discretely told Clint that action was a go. He climbed down the ladder on the other side of the building after silently taking out three guards with his bow and arrow.

He walked into the house with his bow drawn and an arrow ready to fly through the air. He knew Natasha was upstairs in the bedroom seducing the man she was about to kill, so there would be more guards at the top of the stairs. He hid behind the couch where he could still see the two guards that were trying- and failing- to not listen to the 'festivities' occurring in the room behind them. He let one arrow fly and hit one of them right in the heart. The other quickly figured out the trajectory of the arrow and headed downstairs to see who was there. He was smarter than Clint had thought. Damn.

The bow and arrow was of no use at an extremely close range, so he was left with hand to hand combat. He dodged one of the punches that bigger man threw at him. Clint was much swifter than the cartel guard, and that worked to his advantage more than he had thought. He had really underestimated this mission.

During the second that Clint was thinking about the mission, the guard had gotten a punch in. Clint quickly recovered and kicked the man's knees to the side, making him drop to the floor with a loud thud. He was just about to shoot the poor bastard in the head with the pistol he always kept as backup when he heard a door open and someone run towards the stairs. Shit.

Velasquez froze at the top of the staircase when he saw his best guard useless on the floor with a gun to his head. "What the hell is this? Is this a set-up?" He screamed as he turned around to face Natasha. SHIT! Clint thought. Natasha launched herself at the target and he tumbled down the steps and moaned as he hit solid ground. She quickly flew down the stairs and jumped on the back of the man who had just managed to stand up. Before he could even register what happened, she snapped his neck and gracefully dropped to the ground, giving Clint a look that made him cringe a bit. He quickly took out the incapacitated man lying on the floor in front of him.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here, I'm sure someone heard that gunshot." Natasha ordered. They left the house through the back door that Clint had pinpointed when on watch. They had to get to the extraction point that was a mile and a half away, and they didn't have a car. So they decided to blow off some steam and race each other. They were out of breath when they reached the helicopter, and the same time, and Coulson seemed uneasy as to why they ran here.

Natasha, noticing her handler's expression said, "No one's following us, Coulson, we just needed to get rid of some pent up anger." She said that last part while glaring at Clint.

"What was that for?" Clint asked referring to the look he just received from his partner.

She didn't say anything, but there was an implied, You know what I'm talking about, asshole, hanging in the air as she climbed into the helicopter, ready to get back to base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation: "When we're in private, I'm going to do things so dirty you don't even know. I'm going to-"


	4. Chapter 4

"Barton, I'm surrounded by twenty five people here, how many do you have on your side?" Natasha asked into her earpiece. She and Clint were separated inside of an old factory building that seemed like it could collapse on them at any moment, and they were both trying to dodge the shots ringing out from every direction.

"I've got about fifteen here, Romanoff." They enemy clearly knew who was more dangerous in a hand to hand situation. "I'm going to take down as many as I can and then get to the rafters to help you with the others."

"You better hurry up Barton, I don't have enough rounds for all of these guys." Natasha replied while simultaneously fighting two large men and knocking them both out with a strategically placed pinch to the back of their necks. "Amateurs." Natasha said under her breath so low that Clint could barely make out what she said.

On the other side of the building, Clint was engaged in combat with a man that was almost equally as skilled as him. Almost. The two were locked in a deadly tango of punches, kicks, and dodges, while Clint shot at lingering figures in the background. The muscles on his back were built up from years of archery, so that offered him the advantage of extra power when winding up for the punch that eventually took down his opponent. He then continued to shoot almost perfectly aimed ammo at the others. He hadn't been allowed to bring his bow and quiver this time because this consisted of more up close and personal contact. He had been given a gun similar to the one his partner was wielding with dead on accuracy.

Natasha had gotten rid of all but two of her bunch when a shot rang out from Clint's side of the building, silencing all the others. There was static on the other end of the line. "Barton, are you okay over there?" She waited a few moments, but the static didn't cease and she got no reply. "Shit, Barton, if you don't answer me right now I'm going to kick your ass once we're done here." Nothing.

Now even more angry and focused on getting rid of her opponents, Natasha quickly turned on her new 'Widow Bites', as SHEILD had deemed them, between punches. They were wrist cuffs with electricity pulsing through them that could range from stunning the attacker, to stopping his heart. SHEILD had given them to her as a substitute for the venomous lipstick for close combat. She hadn't had a chance to try them out before now, and dammit they had better work.

She waited for an opportunity to shock both men at the same time, and when she did, she grabbed both their necks in her hands and squeezed to engage the Widow Bites. Both men toppled to the ground, unconscious but not dead. She quickly raced over to her partner who was still putting up one hell of a fight despite not being allowed to use his right shoulder after getting shot there. There were three people surrounding him just about to deal the blow that would eliminate him when Natasha came up behind one of them and jumped on his back before using her new weapons once more. She then turned her attention to the other two, one man and one woman, and skillfully diverted their attention away from Clint.

The woman was easier to take out because she was less experienced, child's play for the Russian assassin. The man, however, was much taller than her and so posed a greater threat when it came to reaching his neck to use her Widow Bites. She decided to not use them on him, she's made it this far in her life without them right? A swift kick to his left knee caught him off guard, but didn't knock him down. She decided to quickly knee him in the groin with enough force to send him to the ground. She disarmed him and tied his hands behind his back so he would have to suffer through the pain without being able to instinctually protect his bruised man parts. She smirked at the man's agony.

Suddenly, red lights started flashing around all of them. "Battle simulation complete." Rang out through the hidden speakers.

"We make a pretty damn good team, don't we Tasha." Clint said smugly.

She punched him hard in the right shoulder. He had only been shot with a paintball gun after all, but it still hurt like hell.

"I though we already discussed the nicknames, Barton." Natasha teased darkly and just then, Fury threw open the door to see the results of the training match.

He had sent in Clint and Natasha as a two man team, while putting them up against thirty of the best agents on base. He knew they would hold their own, but he didn't expect them two win.

"Fight's over Romanoff, hands to yourself." He chided just having seen the unneeded punch to Barton's shoulder. Natasha only responded by taking a few steps away from her partner and towards the Director of their agency.

"I sent you two into a shit storm and managed to escape, relatively unscathed," Fury said, noticing the blue paint on the same shoulder Natasha had just assaulted with her fist. "You have proven that you're currently my best agents so don't mess that up by beating each other to a pulp. Now, it looks like we should get some of these guys to the recovery rooms to make sure you two didn't permanently compromise them." Clint and Natasha knew he wasn't joking when he said it, they had both fought with almost as much ferocity as they would have in the field. They were pretty pleased with themselves.

 

A few hours after the training challenge, Clint approached Fury in an offshoot of the main hallway.

"Fury, I thought we were trying to get people to warm up to Natasha, not be even more afraid of her, especially with those new weapons she's got on her suit..." Clint said with a confused look on his face.

"Well, Barton, being a good agents comes before appeasing the masses. Romanoff may not get the popular vote in an election, but she sure as hell gets the job done." The two stood silent for a few seconds as they watched Natasha walk through the crowded main hallway. People were making a path for her, and she rolled her eyes when she saw the look on one agents face when he almost bumped into her.

"I-I'm so sorry Agent Romanoff, I'm-it will never happen agai-"

"It's fine Agent Rider." Natasha cut him off, giving him a forced smile that eerily looked like a real one. She continued to walk towards the shooting range whit no readable expression on her face, when Fury broke the silence between himself and Clint.

"It looks like she's trying to keep peace between her reputation and the other agents." Fury said with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.  
"Yeah, The Black Widow actually being nice, right. She's only doing that for her own benefit. She's getting tired of still being the topic of conversation after nine months of being here, Fury, a person can only take so much." Clint said protectively. Too protectively.

"I think she can handle it, Barton." Fury warned. He didn't want to baby Natasha any more than she didn't want to be babied.

That seemed to snap Clint out of whatever was going on with him at the moment, and he walked away to the cafeteria with an expressionless face. That seemed to be the favored way to look within the realm of spies and assassins. No one needs to know what goes on inside the heads of people that lie and kill for a living, not even each other.

Later that night in Natasha's room, where Agent Guiteras now resided as well, there was obvious tension between the two. Guiteras had been on a mission since Natasha got back and this was the first night that they had to share the room in over two weeks. Neither of them were really overjoyed at the rooming assignment, but neither of them said anything. Fury made sure that he didn't put someone that would be afraid of Romanoff in a room with her, and Agent Guiteras most certainly was not afraid of her. Natasha would occasionally flip the pages of her book like she was annoyed with it, but Guiteras was a master at reading body language and psychologically profiling most anyone. She knew that the book Natasha was reading was not annoying, but that she was subconsciously commenting on the presence of someone else in her personal space. Guiteras would scoff whenever Natasha made these actions too obvious, letting her know that she wasn't hiding her resentment very well.

When it came time for the two to go to sleep to get an ample amount of rest for the next day's activities, Guiteras decided to break the hours long silence between two of SHEILD's top agents. "Goodnight, Agent Romanoff." She said in a teasing tone that she knew would get a reaction out of her roommate.

"Snarky bitch." Natasha muttered under her breath. She may or may not have meant for Guiteras to hear it, and if she did hear it, she made no audible response.

Natasha always had a hard time getting a good night's sleep, even when she was in room by herself. Now she had thoughts running through her head about what to do if this other person decided to do something. She knew deep down that Agent Guiteras wouldn't do anything to her, but there sure was a lot of movement on the other side of the room. Agent Guiteras moved a lot in her sleep, she couldn't help that, but she was suddenly awakened by the sound of her roommates voice in her ear.

"If you move one more time I swear I will snap your neck with no remorse." It sounded more like a snarl than actual words.

"I'd like to see you try." Agent Guiteras said plainly as she rolled over to her other side, away from Natasha InsaneBitch Romanoff. She honestly was pretty taken aback at the comment, but tried not to let it show. Her heart always gave away when she was scared. The stupid organ couldn't keep a steady rhythm worth shit. Good thing Natasha hadn't decided to take her pulse.

Natasha walked back to her bed and silently pulled the covers over her head. She didn't want to think about how she couldn't intimidate this agent, it was really starting to piss her off. She had always been a threat to others, even back in the Red Room most of the people didn't want to be close to her, and her handlers hated their jobs because they knew if they did anything wrong she could kill them before they even knew what was coming.

But there was something different about Agent Guiteras. She'd have to figure that out later, but for now she needed to rest because there was a long day of sparring, shooting, and training with Clint Barton ahead. 'Joy,' She thought, 'another annoying person to deal with.' She wasn't ready to admit even to herself that she'd been getting used to him. He wasn't as annoying to her anymore, but she would never let anyone see that.

"Didn't sleep too well last night huh, Romanoff." Clint said to her the next morning. He saw that she was even more agitated than usual, and he knew that Agent Guiteras could withstand the sour attitude that Natasha constantly had. That must have pissed her off.

Natasha said nothing, but shot him a look that explained everything. She hated it. She didn't want to share her room with anyone, even if she liked them, but she didn't really seem to like anyone anyway.

They started their day in the shooting range where she helped him with the speed of his aiming, because he wasn't as good with a gun as he was with a bow and arrow. At first she tried not to touch him to show him the way to line up the open sights within a fraction of a second because she really didn't like touching people unless absolutely necessary. It reminded her of all the disgusting men she's had the misfortune of coming into contact with in the past.

He was a quick learner, but still needed help with holding the gun in such a way to control the kick back in the best possible way. She wasn't sure if he messed up on purpose or if he was really not sure how to to it, but it forced her to take a more physical approach to her instruction. She stepped behind him up on a box because he was taller than her. She placed her head on his shoulder so she could see everything from his point of view. Wrapping her arms around his, she placed her hands on his so she could maneuver the gun into place.

"You want to make sure the front sight is directly in between the two points of the rear sight. Then you want to make sure your left arm is bent and tucked under slightly." She moved his arm with her own when she said this. "You also want your right arm to be as straight as possible while leaving it a little bit bent so the kick back doesn't reverberate through to your shoulder." She pulled away for a second letting him adjust without her help, and replaced her arms to correct his form ever so slightly.

Clint had to stop his body from shuddering from the contact with her skin. Why did he all of a sudden have to think about controlling his reactions? He had always been in control of how he acted around people and he didn't like the way he felt out of control when she touched him. He could feel her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm against his back, and felt her breath against his neck when she spoke quietly into his hear.

Noticing that his mind was elsewhere, Natasha raised her voice slightly and scolded him, "Focus Barton. You're never going to get better if you keep letting your mind drift off." After pulling away one last time, she said, "Now remember exactly what the open sights look like, and how the gun feels in your arms. Remember how you have to hold yourself to make sure the kick back doesn't injure you."

He stood there for a moment while he focused on what each muscle was doing, then slowly let his arms down to his sides.

"Now lift up the gun and as fast as you can, get the sights lined up and the gun in the correct position."

Clint did as she said, and without her right there next to him, he was able to do it perfectly. He did it a few more times before deciding that they should move on the the gym and spar. He needed to do something that took all of his concentration, and something that she didn't need to physically direct him to do. She agreed, wanting to get out some of her pent up anger, she walked briskly to the gym and tried not to think about what Clint was distracted by when she was instructing him on the correct way to hold a gun.

This was going a long day for both of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint and Natasha were SHEILD's most successful team. Every mission they went on ended with them prevailing and getting the target. They almost never messed up, despite the stubborn nature of the two. They worked well together, when they were fighting they were in sync, knowing exactly what the other was going to do while covering each others weak spots without even having to think about it. The last mission however, had gone...differently.

Natasha slowly opened her eyes in one of SHEILD's medical rooms, but this was different from the one she was in when she was first brought here. There were more machines and wires that would tangle with even the slightest movement. She knew her last mission with Clint had gone bad, but she didn't think it was bad enough to land her, of all people, in the ICU. She let out a short burst of air as she tried to remember what had happened after she and Clint had infiltrated the Italian mob's headquarters.

Realizing she was awake, the attending physician crossed the room cautiously as to not catch the assassin off guard in her weaker state.

"Agent Romanoff, I'm Doctor Samuelson. I've been treating you after what happened in Italy."

Natasha looked at him as she came out of the fog of the morphine induced sleep. Her head was getting clearer, but she still couldn't recall her mission.

"You seem to be pretty calm right now agent, would you like me to unstrap the restraints?" The doctor asked in a calm, deep voice.

Typical. She hadn't even realized that she was restrained until he said something though.

"Yes. Please." She replied, her voice raspier than usual. As soon as her hands were free, she rolled her tense wrists, keeping mind of the many IV's sticking out of her arms. She was about to ask how long she's been in there when the doctor spoke, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"You managed to nearly shatter your right shoulder, get shot in your left thigh, and get a pretty deep gash on your back. You need to rest for a while to let your injuries heal, even though they're healing much faster than I had expected..." Natasha rolled her eyes at his observation. "Anyway, Agent Barton went to go get something to eat, but he'll be back soon. Poor bastard couldn't bring himself to leave your side until just a few minutes ago." The doctor left Natasha by herself, and her curious thoughts took over.

He'll be back soon? Couldn't leave my side? What, was that supposed to be comforting? They were partners, sure, but she didn't expect him to worry like that. No one had ever given her that much though in Russia. They had laughed at her pain when she came back from mission mangled and beaten.

A few minutes later, she heard one of the nurses address Clint outside her room. "Agent Barton?" He looked at her, letting her know he was listening. "She's awake, but don't stress her out too much, she was hurt pretty bad."

"Thank you ma'am. And I know, I was there." His response came out a little harsher than he had intended, but he didn't care about that. All he really cared about right now was making sure Natasha was okay.   
He opened the door and saw Natasha laying on the bed with countless wires hooked up to her. It reminded him of when he had first brought her in, only with less kicking and Russian swearing this time.

Natasha wanted to know why he had apparently sat next to her bed the entire time she was out, but she decided first things first. "How long have I been out?"

He took a deep breath, knowing then that she had no recollection of their terrible mission. "Three days." He answered shortly. All he could think about was how she had looked back in Italy after he found her, passed out and quickly losing blood from the shot and the cut.

Natasha saw that he was stressing out over something, so she tried to lighten up the mood a bit like he always did when she was being distant. "You sat in that uncomfortable chair for three days? You going soft on me Barton?" Her words came out rigid and almost mean, she internally punched herself after seeing the look that briefly flashed across her partners face.

"It was my fault, Natasha. I should have gone to where you were as soon as I felt something was wrong. I'm sorry-" He was cut off suddenly.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened, Barton." Natasha said.

"You can't say that! You don't even remember what happened!" He snapped at her.

"Well you telling me how guilty you feel about it isn't going to help my memory!" She snapped back. She hated that he could make her so relaxed some times, and so angry at others. "Tell me what happened in Italy. And don't give me some bullshit guilt-biased story." She said in a calmer voice.

He looked at her and noticed she had her mask on and her walls up again. This isn't how he wanted her to wake up.

"I thought you were going to die."

 

Natasha was in a room with three lower level mobsters, while Clint was waiting for her in the lounge with some other people that he did not wish to converse with. The only communication they had was their standard earpieces that were invisible to the people around them. Natasha was talking with one of the men about getting out of there and doing something more exciting. This was her usual ploy, seduce a target, then take him out. His response however, made Clint a little nervous.

"I like that idea very much baby, it's not like you have anyone waiting for you in the other room...right?"

Natasha took it mostly as flirting, but noticed a tinge of sarcasm to his tone. Clint only noticed the sarcasm. He came to the conclusion that the mob knew about his and Natasha's plans, but he knew it would only set off red flags if he suddenly left the lounge and barged into the room of low level bosses.

The rest of the conversation went smoothly, and Clint relaxed a bit. He could hear Natasha turn the door handle loudly, for the express purpose of him hearing it, when all of a sudden there was a loud CRACK at her end of the line.

They had slammed a crow bar into her shoulder and she fell to the ground. How had she not noticed that a crow bar was in the room? Once she was incapacitated, the men tied her up and brought her through a hallway into an adjoining warehouse, closing off the entrance so it was invisible. It was there that the mob bosses tied Natasha's arms to a rig on the ceiling. They had been expecting her. They tied her ankles into restraints on the ground so she was unable to move.

"Ah, Natasha Romanoff," Said a voice that could only belong to Giovanni Brusca, the ring leader himself as he stepped out of the darkness. Clint and Natasha had not been assigned anywhere near where he was supposed to be, but he seemed to have found a way to them nonetheless. "You have been hiding in the shadows that SHEILD has created to protect you from the Red Room, but it seems I have gotten to you first. How does your shoulder feel Natasha? Surely my men have tied this too tight after attacking you so brutally with such an inferior weapon." He proceeded to loosen the ties on her right arm just a bit, knowing that she couldn't move it even if she tried. She tried to block out the pain, this injury was nothing compared to what she had sustained in Russia, so she still had her wits about her.

Brusca continued, "As you can see, you are cornered, and you are smart enough to know what we want from you." He spoke with a sneer. "And I am smart enough to know you won't give up without a fight." Natasha just stared at him with a look only a few had the honor of seeing, though none lived long enough to remember.

Another man walked up to Brusca while twirling a rather grimy looking Glock 30 in his hand. "If the bitch decides to not cooperate, just give me the signal and I'll shoot her."

"Esposito, Please. We are in the presence of the great Black Widow, at least act as if she were a lady." Brusca said, purposely trying to calm his overeager colleague while simultaneously insulting Natasha. "I am so sorry, Natasha," He continued, while cupping her cheek, "He is not used to being in the presence of someone who is so dangerous yet, alluring." He backed away from her and suddenly adopted a rather serious tone.

"Where is you beloved partner, Natasha, surely he must be close?" She didn't say anything, just as he had suspected. "It would be in your best interest to answer my inquiries, la mia bellezza." She continued her silence, and Esposito seemed ready to disobey his boss's orders to wait, when he was given the signal to take a shot.

At first, Natasha didn't feel the bullet pierce her skin, she only felt the warmth of blood trailing down her leg from a slowly bleeding wound. 'At least he didn't hit an artery.' She thought. It took Brusca kicking her in her thigh for her to feel the agony from the bullet that tore through her flesh.

"Now, il mio dulce, please answer my question. Once you tell us where Clint is, I swear I will let you go, on to greater things, Natasha."

Natasha hated that he was calling her by her first name, and her partner as well. She didn't even call him Clint.

She still refused to give up any information about Clint, and Brusca had started asking questions about SHEILD. Like hell she was going to tell him anything. After a prolonged silence that made everyone in the room uncomfortable, Brusca motioned for one of the other men to get something from behind her.

"I wish it didn't have to come to this Natasha, but alas, your silence will not be tolerated anymore."

In that moment she felt a large hand on her left shoulder, and a blade slice through her clothing in deep into her right shoulder. The knife continued its journey in a line across her back down to the left side of her waist. Her body arched away from the blade as she screamed out in pain. This pain was drastically different from the gunshot. That pain was quick and sharp, the flesh tearing was minimal. This pain was slow, she could feel her skin being pierced and her muscles being ripped. This was agonizing and she could not stop herself from finally showing her humanity and letting out terrible, heartbreaking screams as the mobster sliced open her back at an excruciatingly slow pace. Those screams, while being brought on by terror, were ultimately what had saved her.

Clint had heard the gunshot, but the sound was gone as soon as it had appeared. The screams however, were long and drawn out, echoing onto the streets below. He was able to pinpoint a door shaped crack in the wall of the room where Natasha was supposed to be. He kicked open the door and immediately noticed his partner tied up and bleeding, her head hung forward while her red hair fell around her face, matching the color of the blood seeping out of her wounds.

It was one against four, but luckily, Clint had enough motivation to take out the three low level men easily. Brusca waited while he watched his men being slaughtered.

"Bravo, Agent Barton, I knew you would show up soon after hearing those terrible screams rip from the throat of our dearest Natasha." Brusca started as he placed a hand on his gun that was on his hip. "It is a shame that you didn't show up in time to save her."

And with that, Clint drew his gun, lined it up, and shot Brusca right between the eyes faster than he ever had before. Natasha's help worked wonders. Natasha...

Clint knew he needed to get her down and get an extraction as soon as possible. He hit the button on his earpiece that connected him with Coulson, and began to cut the roped that held the limp Natasha in the air.

"Coulson! We need to get out of here NOW! Natasha's hurt badly and is losing blood fast." He laid Natasha down on her stomach while trying to put pressure on her sliced back without hindering her ability to breath, if she was even breathing. The extraction took place at some point in the next 60 seconds, but to Clint it seemed like hours.

 

Natasha kept a hard face after Clint had finished telling her of the mission. Neither of them spoke for what felt like days, but Natasha finally broke the silence.

"So we got the target, and you managed to kill the main mafioso himself."

"Yeah." Clint said, still in a state of shock after recanting the horrors.

"Good." She said before closing her eyes. The morphine was making her more and more tired the longer she fought to stay awake.

Clint crossed the room and put one of his calloused hands onto one of Natasha's hands, careful not to disturb the tubes. Her eyes remained closed when she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Barton, what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh- um- nothing." He managed, quickly removing his hand from hers, and he swore he saw a small smile cross Natasha's lips before she succumbed to the comforts of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so sorry that I'm not updating this quicky, but I'm probably going to post chapter 7 tonight too so please don't hate me

"Tasha-" Clint started as he followed her through the hallways leading away from the psych department on base. They had just been trying to extract information about her past through residual memories. It hadn't gone too well.

"What Barton?!" She screamed as she suddenly stopped and turned around to face him.

"You can't keep running away from your past like this. SHEILD needs to know about the Red Room so they can be taken down. We need you to tell us everything you remember." His calm manner just fueled her rage.

"I get that Barton! I know that SHEILD needs to know everything that happened in Russia, but I can't even be sure what I remember is correct! Don't you get that? Everything they told me about my childhood could be wrong. They pumped me so full of drugs that I barely remember my first five years in the field. They unmade me Barton." Natasha took a deep breath while continuing to stare into her partners worried grey eyes.

"Tasha," Clint said, as he reached out to touch Natasha's arm for comfort. "I understand that it's hard for you to even think about what happened with the Red Room, but for the love of God, you're strong Natasha!" He started to raise his voice because he knew Natasha couldn't stand when she was the only angry one in a conversation. "You need to get it through your thick skull that you're safe here! Even if the memories come flooding back and even more disturbing than any of us thought, there are people here to help you with that. I'm here to help you with that." His voice dropped off a bit at the end.

"Don't touch me, Barton." Natasha growled as she ripped herself away from him and started stalking down the hallway again.

"Stop being so goddamned COLD all the time Natasha! Stop acting like you're going to kill someone at every moment of every single day!" He yelled after her.

"I'm Russian. And that's what I've been built to do." She snapped back over her shoulder. She had stopped walking but hadn't turned around, not having the will power to look at Clint right then.

The halls appeared to be empty, but both of them knew that there were countless spies hidden in the shadows, watching, waiting, like they had been trained to do. None of them wanted to interfere with the heated argument, but none of them wanted to miss it either.

"You don't have to beat yourself up for that, it wasn't your fault. We know that Ivan Petrovitch took you when you were five and made all your decisions for you. You're safe now. Иван Петрович не может повредить вам больше." (Ivan Petrovitch can't hurt you anymore.) Clint said to her, hoping that Russian would get though to her.

She didn't know why, but hearing such a calm sentence in her native tongue made her drop to her knees. She hung her head forwards, trying to control her breathing, while her deep red curls surrounded her face. There was a gasp that escaped from the shadows, but it went unnoticed from the two assassins.

Memories came flooding back into her head. Memories of Ivan's face as he whipped her classmates for doing something wrong in a fight. Memories of the physical, emotional, sexual abuse she had been put through for sixteen years.

Clint, noticing that what he said had triggered something in his partner's mind, bent down to where she was now kneeling, staring at nothing, but seeing everything she didn't want to. "I'm sorry, Natasha, I didn't mean to do this." When she gave no response to him, he decided that bringing her to her room and calling one of the psychologists would be the best option. He started to pick her up but when he touched her she screamed out in a way he had only heard when she was being sliced open a month ago in Italy. It broke his heart to see her like this, but he knew she wouldn't want anyone else to see her in this state, so he continued to pick her up and walked towards her room. Once they entered a more populated area of base, he broke into a full on sprint, being careful to not jostle around Natasha while she was still in her trance. She was trying to fight back weakly, but her memories were taking too much out of her.

Luckily, Director Fury was talking to Coulson in one of the corridors, and he looked up at Clint running with Natasha in his arms, obviously in extreme distress.

"What the hell, Barton?" Coulson spoke up as he tried to get Clint to slow down.

"No time to talk right now, boss. Get psych to Natasha's room NOW." Clint responded, having to yell the last part over his shoulder because he didn't slow down.

Coulson pulled out his phone and alerted the psych department to the current situation, then took off down the hall towards Natasha's room. He caught up to Clint just as he and Natasha reached the door, and opened it for them quickly so Clint could put her down on her bed. Agent Guiteras was in there, and Coulson asked her if she wouldn't mind going somewhere else on base for awhile. She complied and nodded to Clint on her way out, silently letting him know that she would keep quiet about this.

Once Natasha was laying on her bed, she regained some of her strength and began to lash out at the horrifying memories she was being plagued with.

Clint was forced to pin her down so she didn't hurt anyone else, but he jumped back when she screamed one of those dreadful screams and arched her body in pain when he had accidentally put too much pressure on her back.

The sudden surge of pain from a recent wound seemed to pull her out of her trance ever so slightly, but it was enough so that she could hear and recognize the voices around her as Clint and Coulson. Clint took notice of this and tried talking to her in the hopes that the sound of his voice could calm her down.

"Tasha, it's okay, you're at SHEILD, in your room. You're safe Tasha. It's me, Clint. Coulson's here too. You don't need to fight anymore Natasha, we'll keep you safe." He felt the tears start to well up in his eyes, and feel his breath become less controlled. 'What are you doing Barton! Get yourself together, if not for you then for Natasha, she needs someone to be strong right now.'

"C-Clint?" The shakiness in Natasha's voice snapped him out of his own thoughts and brought his attention to the woman he currently had pinned to the bed. She closed her eyes hard a few times, trying to rid herself of the visions of her horrifying past. The two of them looked over Coulson as he introduced the woman standing in the doorway with a file in her hand.

"This is Dr. Thompson. She's here to talk to you Natasha, if you're up to it."

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, as soon as Barton gets off me." She said, starting to return to her normal self a little bit. He un pinned her from the bed and sat at the foot of it, not wanting to leave her alone with someone she didn't trust.

"Agent Romanoff, If you can, please tell me what you saw."

She nodded, but didn't look at the doctor, took a deep breath and began. "I think it was brought on by the session earlier, and Barton telling me that Petrovitch can't hurt me anymore in Russian."

"Natasha I'm sorry, I-" Clint began, only to be cut off.

"Barton, please." Natasha said, before continuing on with the rest of the memories. "I was in a gym with several other girls my age, we were all about six or seven I think. We were fighting each other, not even just sparring. One of the girls, I think she was a friend of mine, lost her fight. Petrovitch dragged her to a wall and tied her hands up in ropes that were already there. He made us all watch as he took out a whip and slashed her back time after time. All the other girls were screaming and crying, but I just stood there, and Petrovitch smiled at me and said, 'Why can't all these other bitches be more like you, Natalia?'" She kept eye contact with Clint as she continued to tell Dr. Thompson about the serums they pumped her full of, and what she thought they may have done. There was one that made her heal faster, one that made her able to be aware of her surroundings at a heightened level, and one that made her unable to get pregnant because she had to seduce targets so she could kill them privately. She only broke eye contact to look at the floor when she described Ivan's 'punishment' for her when she was just starting out as an assassin.

"I never failed to kill my target, but if I didn't do it exactly how Petrovitch wanted, he would lock me in a room with a man that I had foolishly trusted, sometimes two, and let them have their way with me for hours on end. This cycle went on for, maybe, seven years, before I was able to shut myself down and block out what they were doing to me. After that, Petrovitch would do it himself, using different tricks to keep me coherent the whole time."

The three others in the room sat silently as she recounted everything she remembered about her past, knowing now why she wanted to run away from it as fast as she could. Looking back up at Clint, Natasha gave them information about the inner workings of the Red Room that she managed to figure out when she was still in Russia. She trusted the doctor enough to talk about her past in front of her, she had to, but she couldn't bring herself to look at someone she didn't know and tell them everything about herself that she hated so much.

When she finished, Dr. Thompson thanked Natasha for her help and quietly left. Coulson followed suit, after asking Natasha if she needed anything. Clint was getting up to leave when Natasha's voice stopped him.

"No, stay. If it's not too much to ask, I don't really want to be alone right now, Barton, and I don't think Agent Guiteras will be back for a while."

He turned around and sat back on the bed in the spot next to her. "Can I ask you a question?" Clint said.

"Of course."

"Why did you look at me the entire time? I mean except for the part about..." He trailed off, not wanting to think about it, or remind her of it more.

"I trust you, Clint. Even though I know there were two other people in the room, I wanted to pretend it was just you and me, that no one else heard my story. I don't want anyone else to know what happened to me in Russia. You have to promise that you won't tell anyone about my past, I can't have people feeling sorry for me."

"Tasha, I would never tell anyone about anything that you just said, except maybe for you calling me by my first name." This got a small smile to cross Natasha's features before Clint continued. "Now that I know about your past, I want you to know about mine."

"You don't have to do that-"

"I want to, Nat." He told her about his life before SHEILD, about how he was homeless and his brother ran away from him after the man they both loved as a father had passed away.

Natasha noticed how Clint's expression changed when he talked about Barney. "Where's your brother now?"

"He's dead." He responded. He took a deep breath and began again. "I was on one of my first missions as a SHEILD agent, and they wanted me to go undercover in a circus as a trick shooter. There were reports of the leaders running a small human trafficking ring. I was under the mentorship of one of the leaders, Swordsman. Everything was fine for a while, I would get bits and pieces of information from sneaking around at night, until one night, I came across the car where they kept the people they were going to sell. I couldn't really make out any faces from outside the car, but a familiar voice called out my name. It was Barney. He had been on the run and was picked up by one of the leaders. I tried to break him out of there, and we were about to cross the fence next to the train tracks when Swordsman came up behind me. He told me that it wasn't a good idea to steal their merchandise, but now that this one has possibly been seen by the rest of the circus, he had to die. 'I can't watch my brother die!' I told him. It only seemed to make a demonic smile spread across his face. 'You won't be watching him die. You'll be doing it yourself. And if you don't, I'll tell everyone here what you're really doing here. I've been able to keep your snooping under wraps until now, but people are starting to suspect that something's up. Killing him will put those suspicions to rest. Also, if you don't kill him, I'll kill you both.'" Clint had to take a few deep breaths before continuing.

"I knew that if I just did that one thing he asked of me, I could tell SHEILD about who was in charge of the human trafficking and save them all. I chose the safety of all the others on the train over the life of my own brother. He was the only family I had left. I learned a few years ago that my father drank himself to death and my mother was killed by her abusive boyfriend. I wasn't under any mind control when I killed Barney, Tasha, I chose to end the life of the last family I had in this world."

Clint put his hand over Natasha's, and she moved only so she could intertwine their fingers. The two of them sat like that in silence for a while, relaxing into the fact that they both had terrible histories, and that they could tell each other anything. They could trust each other like no one else, not even Coulson on Fury. The fact that they each only had one person in this would that they could trust fully with their lives should have been depressing, but to two of the most torn-apart people in this world, it was more than they could ever ask for.


	7. Chapter 7

You two are going on a mission in England. First part of it is surveillance, you'll need to follow Lady Carnarvon and make sure the CIA really did take out the assassin that was after her. Their spy has gone 'missing'," Coulson said with air-quotes, "and we can't know for sure what happened unless we send someone in. You two, are that someone. Once you make sure that Lady Carnarvon and all of Highclere Castle aren't in any immediate danger, I want you to find the CIA spy, who we suspect may be treasonous." Coulson finished his quick summary and slid the files across the table to the two waiting assassins. Natasha was the first one to notice something different about this mission.

"Coulson, it says here, 'the team of six agents is assigned to Agent DeLong's capture.'"

"I suppose I should have started with that," Coulson replied, cursing himself for forgetting that fact. "After you two successfully secure Highclere Castle, four other agents will be joining you in tracking down the CIA agent. Agents Merchant, Morissette, Hobbes, and Guiteras will helping with the facade of a tour group, and also as extra hands in making sure Agent DeLong cooperates."

Natasha's eyebrow raised in an annoyed fashion when she heard that Agent Guiteras was coming with them. Natasha didn't even like group missions, let alone with the one person who she always looked forward to getting away from when going on missions. "Are we done here, Coulson?" She said quickly. She wanted to go pack before Guiteras got back to their room.

"Indeed Agent Romanoff. You two will be by yourselves for a few days before the others need to catch up to you, so don't hate me too much. Now get you asses out of here and be at the hangars by 11:00 tonight."

As Natasha and Clint were leaving Coulson's office, they passed the other agents who were on their way to briefing. Natasha gave them a glare that said, 'If this mission gets messed up, it's on you.'

"Nat, be nice, we need them to trust us on this one." Clint said quietly as they continued towards the housing wing. He disliked group missions too, but supposed Natasha hated them even more, she had always been by herself. Well, at least until she met him.

Natasha had just finished packing and picked up her copy of Crime and Punishment, which was of course, in Russian. Agent Guiteras walked in rather agitated, after learning that she would have to work along side the cold robot she had the misfortune of calling her roommate. The two didn't particularly care for each other, but they worked out a situation where they would just co-habitate. Every so often they would have short conversations about this or that, but nothing personal. There was one question, however, that Natasha had wanted to ask from the first night they were forced to room together, but she didn't want to get involved in someones past, because she didn't want to have to tell them about hers.

After a few days of checking around town and following Lady Carnarvon, Clint and Natasha were hidden in the shadows up in one of the balconies that rose above the ballroom in Highclere Castle. They didn't need to be mingling in the party, so they were dressed in their black SHELD issued uniforms so they could sink into the darkness. Clint was scanning the room for any potential threats, while Natasha was pulling up a picture of the assassin on her phone. They were pretty sure he was still alive, and the ball seemed like a good opportunity for him to strike.

"I see him." Clint said with certainty. Natasha followed his line of sight and confirmed his statement.

"We need to wait for him to lure Lady Carnarvon away from the crowd and then take him out. Preferably with one of your arrows Barton." Natasha said in a dry tone while they sat in wait.

Soon enough, the assassin struck up what seemed to be a business conversation with the Lady, and the two walked into the hallway where their discussion could more easily take place.

"I'll go after them, and you head to the ground level to intercept his body and get it out of here before anyone sees it." Clint said over his shoulder as he headed towards an area where he could get a shot.

Natasha found her way around the massive castle and lurked in the dark, waiting for her target to be taken down. Soon enough, she heard the twang of Clint's bow string and the target toppled to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest. She quickly ran up to the Lady and the dead man, telling her that this man was sent to kill her, and that her life had just been saved by people that she can never talk about.

"None of what just transpired can ever be mentioned ma'am. But I suggest getting better security around here." Natasha finished as she picked up the dead body and headed for the secret passageways that lead outside to where the extraction team sat. Putting her hand up to her ear when she had a chance, "On my way out, we got him."

The next day, the rest of the team had shown up at the hotel. They were undercover as three American couples on a European tour, but there were only two rooms rented so the woman were in one and the men in the other.

"We have intel that DeLong is having daily meetings with someone in a cafe in the town just north of here." Agent Hobbes stated, wanting to be as professional as possible with Agents Barton and Romanoff around.

"Now Fury told us that it doesn't really matter who is paired with who, since none of our identities are married, so we get to choose amongst ourselves." Agent Merchant started, he seemed almost too eager to share this news. He glanced up at Natasha with a hopeful look in his eye that everyone saw. "Romanoff?"

"No." Natasha said as soon as he had finished saying her name. "Barton and I have the most experience of going under cover as a couple."

Clint knew without her even saying it that the real reason she didn't want to be partnered up with Merchant. Clint was the only one she really trusted here, and she got a kick out of turning down the over-eager agent.

Luckily, the other four were too distracted by fighting about who got to 'date' whom to notice the look that Clint and Natasha shared as she got up from the table after they had all finished talking about the important things.

For the next few days, the group would walk around the surrounding towns seemingly aimlessly, with Clint and Natasha leading the group and accurately describing most anything they came across that was touristy. At night, Clint and Natasha would go off on their own to follow the CIA agent without the distraction of the rest of the team. The two successfully bugged the cafe the agent had been spotted at, along with some other places they had followed him to. They only conducted assignment business when they were on their own, but three of their teammates weren't convinced there wasn't something more there.

"They're way too good at pretending to be a couple." Hobbes stated, no longer being professional while Clint and Natasha were out.

"That's because they are a couple!" Merchant yelped excitedly.

"What made you jump to that rash conclusion, Max?" Morissette asked.

"Think about it! I mean, she didn't even consider me as her cover date the other day, and look at me." He was certainly one of the most attractive men at SHEILD. "They go off together at night, they have entire conversations with just body language, and they move like they're one person, even when their back at base."

Morissette and Hobbes thought about it for a minute, when Hobbes wholeheartedly agreed. "I know exactly what you're talking about Max, what do you think, Anna?" Agent Morissette sighed before responding.

"There's no way they're not together, but they make such a weird couple, even weirder than when Tom was trying to get Hill to go out with him."

"Hey!" Hobbes said, obviously offended at the agent's remark.

"Anyway," Morissette continued, "Raquel here lives with Romanoff, she must know something."

Agent Guiteras rolled her eyes before setting down her book. "We are not exactly best friends, you know." Her accent was showing through more now that she was annoyed at the petty conversation taking place around her. "But I will say this; they trust each other. I have been living in the same room as Romanoff for 8 months now and she refuses to talk to me about anything, but when Barton comes by and asks her to talk or go to the gym or something, she doesn't hesitate." When she finished giving them her insight, she made herself some tea and picked her book back up. The others just stared at her in confusion.

"That can't be all of it, Raquel, surely you of all people have picked up on something going on between those two. I mean come. on." Merchant said, drawing out the last two words in a childish whine.

"If there were something going on between Barton and Romanoff, do you think that they would make it so obvious that people would pick up on it? This is just part of how their partnership works. Drop by one of their sparring matches sometime and you'll see why they move together so well." And with that, she retired to the woman's room to finish her book.

The next morning, Morissette and Guiteras woke up to find that Natasha had already showered and gotten dressed. And packed.

"We're continuing our tour of Europe in London. Agent Barton and I went through the audio from the bugged restaurants and learned that DeLong is headed there for a ball tonight to take out one of the scientists that works at Stark Industries, and before you ask, it's not Tony Stark. I would have a hard time helping that annoying bastard if DeLong were after him." Natasha said.

"If we're going to a ball, don't we need gowns?" Morissette asked, still a little groggy.

"London has stores." Natasha said coldly, before walking out the door to make sure Clint had briefed the others.

"I'm so glad I don't have to live with that." Morissette when she was sure Natasha couldn't hear her. Guiteras only sighed and shook her head in amusement.

Once the team got to London, they dropped their things off in their rooms, same arrangement as before. That afternoon was spent shopping. Natasha went off on her own while the other two women went together. Clint decided to be more social than his partner and went with the guys to get suits. He eventually broke away from the group to get a late lunch with Natasha, who had surprisingly already gotten her dress.

"They think we're a couple." Clint said in between bites of his chicken.

"Well, that is our cover Barton."

"I know that Natasha, but the team thinks we're together outside this assignment." Clint said calmly, not wanting to trigger some pent up anger in his angsty partner.

"How do you know this?"

"They never asked directly, but they would hint at it in conversation and ask question about the bugged cafes as if to make sure we really did what we say we did."

Natasha sighed as she propped her head up in her hand. "They're all idiots."

Clint chuckled lightly at Natasha's statement. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, "Tasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't we play up their assumptions a little bit tonight? Ya know, make 'em sweat." He asked with a wink.

"You're diabolical Barton. I like it." She said. He took that as a yes.

After the team had gotten back to the hotel, they were all getting ready for whatever the night might have in store for them.

"What's with the British and having extravagant parties all the time." Morissette said under her breath, resenting the fact that she had to dress up. She wore a black halter dress that was shorter in the front and longer in the back. Her straight blonde hair fell around her face and stopped at her chin, framing her face. She had gone into the bathroom to do her makeup and left Guiteras and Natasha alone.

Guiteras wore a dark red dress with long sleeves but a deep V in the front. She had pinned back her hair into a tight bun, looking like a ballerina. "Romanoff, can you zip me up?"

Natasha nodded and walked over to the Spanish agent, but froze when she saw the scar that ran all the way from her neck, straight down to her hips, following the line of her spine. Guiteras realized that Natasha had noticed her scar and decided that she should probably explain it.

"You found it huh? I had scoliosis, pretty bad too. SHEILD told me I could never work for them if I had a disability" She said, saying the last word like it burned her tongue. Natasha had zipped up her dress at this point. "I had no where else to go so I agreed to get the surgery to fix it. With the technology we have today, they were able to pretty much replace my vertebrae, put in a titanium rod, and straighten out my back. I also recently got a replacement valve in my heart so I'm not a liability in interrogations." She said turning around to point out the less dramatic scar on her chest. "That's where all the Star Trek comments come from. My back is made of metal."

"Why did you tell me this?" Natasha asked warily, no one had ever told her that much without her asking, except Clint.

"You should know that you and Barton aren't the only ones with histories here. And I know you have a nasty scar on your back. Now you know you're not the only one." Guiteras said matter-of-factly. Guiteras walked out of the room and let Natasha finally get her dress on. By the time she was done getting ready, the others were waiting outside for her.

"What's taking so long, Romanoff?" Hobbes asked through the comm in her ear.

"I probably have more weapons on me than all of you combined, I had to make sure they don't show." She responded before leaving the room.

Clint was waiting outside with the rest of the team, his suit fitting snugly around his musculature without being too tight. His grey eyes were a perfect contrast to the dark black and stark white of his suit, his hair was spiked up tastefully, and most of the women on the street had to stop themselves from staring, agents Guiteras and Morissette included. They were all getting pretty restless when they heard the door to the hotel open behind them, and Natasha clear her throat.

Jaws. Dropped.

Natasha was wearing a long dress that was only darker that her skin by a few shades, it was covered in lace and crystals, and hugged her body before flowing out at mid thigh. In the front, the deep V neckline was accentuated by the silver necklace she wore. The back of the dress plunged into what seemed to be infinity. She had pinned her flaming red hair back but let most of the long curly locks flow. Her red lips were brought to life as she smiled at them, mostly for the facade of being with a group of people she loved dearly. She started walking towards the group and Clint met her halfway, giving her a look that told her he was going to hold true to their agreement earlier. He took her hand in his and kissed it, evoking an eye roll from the Russian assassin. He spun her around but stopped her when he saw the back of the dress, or lack there of.

"Tasha-" He began as he ran his hand lightly over her back.

"You can't see it, Clint. I made sure of that." She said quietly as she turned to face the rest of the group. "Ready?"

"We've been waiting for you, Romanoff." Guiteras said.

"I don't mind the wait if this is what I'm waiting for." Merchant said with a wink. Ever the charmer, that one.

The three couples arrived at the party in a limousine, with Natasha being the last to get out. She had let her left leg reach the ground first, showing the slit that went up her dress almost too high, while giving Clint of of those looks that made his breath catch in his throat. Once she was out of the limo, she put her arm through Clint's and closed his mouth with her other hand. "You're going to catch flies like that." She said sarcastically.

"Damn the things you do to me Tasha." He whispered. Regaining his composure, he decided to poke some fun at the other two men they were with. "Keep looking at my date like that and I'm gonna have to do something about it." He said with a smile while patting hit hip where one of his guns was located.

The team broke off into their respective pairs and cased the party, with Guiteras and Merchant finally spotting DeLong.

"He's at the bar. One of us needs to distract him." Guiteras said, pretending to be having a private conversation with Merchant.

"I've got that covered." Natasha responded as she and Clint gracefully moved around the dance floor, much to the amazement of everyone around them.

"Romanoff, you do realize that everyone here has seen you, and therefore seen you with Clint?" Merchant countered.

"Barton and I will pretend to have a heated fight close enough to the bar for DeLong to hear, but not too close to be obvious. Then I'll go to the bar all flustered and strike up a conversation with him. Keep an eye on me and as soon as you see us start to leave, come back me up." Natasha said, surprising the other four agents with her ability to come up with the plan.

"Get to it then." Hobbes said while moving to the far end of the bar with Morissette.

Clint leaned down to whisper into Natasha's ear, discretely activating her earpiece with his cheek "Lure DeLong into the smaller room to our left, no windows for him to escape." Natasha let a fake smile cross her lips, feigning interest in his whispers. "Now slap me." He said a little too seductively for anyone's liking, since they could all still hear him.

Natasha took in a sharp breath while pulling herself out of the intimate grasp of her partner. She lifter her hand and there was a loud SMACK as her palm connected with the left side of his face. "You're a dirty bastard!" She screamed, successfully attracting the attention of DeLong. "And to think I was going to spend the night with you!"

"Samantha, listen to me!" Clint called out to her, using her fake identity.

"I have been listening to you, John! I've been listening to your lies all night!" She screamed back at him, then turned away and went to the bar. She ordered two shots of the best vodka they had, and took them one right after the other, placing the glasses on the table with a tad bit more force than was needed.

"Damn" She heard Merchant say over the communicator at the same time as the bartender.

"I spent some time in Russia recently." She said, answering more for the bartenders benefit. She waited for DeLong to stop eyeballing her and start the conversation.

"Now what's a pretty little thing like you doin' with a scumbag like him?" He asked in a southern drawl while motioning towards Clint who appeared to be wooing another helpless soul.

"Every man I've been with is a scumbag." Natasha said, not really lying.

"Let's see if we can't change that then Miss..."

"Samantha. Samantha Locke." She said while raising one perfectly arched eyebrow at his statement. He was taken prisoner by her flirting and couldn't focus on his secret mission even if he wanted to.

"Well, it's so very nice to make your acquaintance Samantha. My name is Stephen Masters." He stuck out his hand to shake hers and the brought it to his mouth to kiss it.

Natasha giggled lightly and took her hand away from his while stepping closer to her target.

"What do you say I make good on that promise Samantha?" He asked her, giving her his best seductive look.

Natasha smiled at his words and led him to the room where Clint told her to go, pretending to lock the door behind them.

Just as he pushed her up against a wall and brought his mouth to hers in a forceful kiss, Clint and the others barged in.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" DeLong asked.

Clint ignored his question and turned his attention to Natasha who had just managed to cuff DeLong's hands behind his back.

"You good?" He asked her as she wiped her mouth with the back of the hand she wasn't using to restrain DeLong.

She nodded, then turned to DeLong. "You know, even for CIA I thought you would have been able to control yourself for at least five more minutes."

He noticed the double insult, and the fact that the group knew who he was. He moved to kick Natasha but she anticipated the move and caught his leg with her own, making him topple to the ground. Merchant and Hobbes violently lifted him off the ground and the group started towards the back entrance where the extraction team was. Clint took Natasha's hand in his own, silently telling her to hang back a bit from the group.

"The mission's over Barton, we don't have to pretend to be together anymore." She said, but hadn't pulled her hand away from his.

"I know. I - just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said, trying to find the right words.

"Clint, I'm fine. He went down a lot quicker than I had expected." She reassured him. She knew he had more meaning behind the words, but she really didn't want to think of that right now, she wouldn't let herself think about how easy it had been to pretend to be in a relationship with Clint.

The team finally made it back to base, and Clint and Natasha had gone through most of the debriefing on the eight hour flight back to base. All either of them wanted to do was get a hot shower, relax, and hopefully get some sleep. Coulson had followed Clint to his room, and Maria Hill to Natasha's, acting like they wanted to make sure the agents were okay after such a long mission. Clint and Natasha opened their doors to their rooms, only to find none of their belongings there.

"Gather up any shit you may have hidden around here and meet me, Hill, and Natasha at the hangars in 10." Coulson said before walking away, leaving Clint to his seemingly empty room.

Ten minutes later, the four agents stood staring at each other in one of the hangars at the D.C. base.

Coulson took one last glance at the two assassins and then spoke. "The four of us are getting on that plane. We're being relocated to a new base."

Clint and Natasha exchanged a quick glance and then reluctantly complied with their handler's orders.

Once they landed on a ship in the middle of the ocean, Natasha looked at Coulson with an unamused look. "This is a base?"

"Yes Natasha," Coulson said as the ship started to vibrate and sounds of water churning filled the air. "We may wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe."


	8. Chapter 8

"Strike Team Delta, report to Director Fury's office." Following the directions of the intercom voice, Clint left the cafeteria and Natasha left the gym, reluctantly. Clint caught up to Natasha in the crowded hallway and as soon as he was about to grab her arm from behind, she turned around and stopped walking, almost making him knock into her.

"What made you think that sneaking up on me is good idea, Barton?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well I figured if you killed me, I wouldn't have to go to this meeting, Romanoff."

Natasha just rolled her eyes in response and began walking towards Fury's office. Clint hurried after her, trying to make small talk to calm her down after being interrupted during one of her favorite parts of the day.

"I still can't believe they named us Strike Team Delta. I mean, why can't we just be us?" He started.

"I don't know, Clint. I doubt anyone but Fury knows." Natasha responded as the two walked in the door to Fury's office. Much to their surprise, Coulson, Hill, and Fury were all in the room, with the Council on the screens. Both Natasha and Clint quickly took in their surroundings, which were unusual to say the least, and one of the council members broke the tense silence, speaking directly to Clint and Natasha.

"Fury has told us that you two are his most successful team, and also the top solo agents at SHEILD." Here she took a pause. "We don't believe that this can be so. How an archer and an ex-Russian can be the best on their own, let alone work together, is a foreign concept to me. Let's hope you can prove us wrong."

And with that, the screens went black, leaving the five agents to themselves. After no one had said anything regarding what the council had said, Clint shifted his weight and began.

"What was that all about, Director? 'Let's hope you can prove us wrong'? What was she talking about?"

"Well Agent Barton," Fury started, "You and Agent Romanoff here are being sent on three very high-profile missions."

"Three missions at the same time? Fury, I know you like to torture us but don't you think that's a little much?" Clint responded.

"Three separate missions, Agent Barton." Fury clarified. "You will be sent to Argentina to take out the assassin that has been assigned to kill President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner. Agent Romanoff here is being sent to Ireland to take out the leader of the newly founded Irish version of the Red Room." The whole room tensed as they gauged Natasha's reaction to the assignment.

Fury took a long pause before telling them the third mission they were being sent on so Clint gave him an impatient look, which Natasha copied a few seconds later.

"After your mission is complete Barton, you will be heading to Budapest. There is a rebel situation that we have been monitoring for quite some time now, and we want you to be there when it erupts. Agent Romanoff will join you once she has made sure that Seamus Aherne is dead, along with his organization. You two will be able to contact each other the entire time, even while on separate missions, so you will know when the other is ready to head to Budapest. Now, Agents, get your asses out of my office and memorize everything about your missions." Fury said as he waved his hand towards the best team at SHEILD.

Clint and Natasha both nodded and as soon as they were about to leave the room, Fury spoke again.

"And Agents?" He said, making the two turn to look at him again. "Remember that the council is watching. Don't fuck this up."

"Yes sir." Clint said, and he and Natasha went to his room to read up on their missions.

"So Fury actually likes us huh?" Clint said to break the silence between them.

"The council said that he told them we were the best, not that he likes us, Barton." Natasha said curtly without looking up from one of her files.

"So you don't think he likes us?" Clint responded with a fake pout on his lips.

"No, I don't."

"What's with you and thinking people don't like us?" Clint asked seriously.

Natasha looked up from her file with a bland look on her face, letting him know that he already knows the answer. "They may like you, but all my life I've been trained to kill. I had friends once, but Petrovitch made me take their lives as part of my training. My past doesn't really allow for likable traits." She returned her attention back to the file, hoping Clint would get the message that she didn't want to talk about it.

"So you don't think you have friends here?" Obviously Clint either didn't get the message, or was too stupid to care.

"No, Barton, I don't." Natasha said in a tone that successfully ended the conversation. "Now keep going over your files, wheels up in thirty for you."

Clint Barton was currently in Argentina, searching a crowd of people for an assassin that was trained to not be spotted. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Good thing that's what Clint did for a living. His mission was much easier than Natasha's, and he would probably be almost done with his by the time she would have barely started hers. He never let his mind wander when he was in the field, but today he was thinking about how Natasha was sent to take down a Red Room-like organization. He knew that on the outside she said she was fine with it, 'It's just another mission, Barton.', she had said to him, but he couldn't help the images of their infamous fight in the hallway creep into his mind.

Natasha Romanoff was refreshing herself on Irish. She hadn't spoken the language much since she joined SHEILD, and very rarely even before then. The mission was to infiltrate the new 'agency' as a trainer. Her red hair and pale skin made her a perfect candidate for this mission. She had to be mean and tough-skinned, and merciless. Good thing she never stopped being that way. She would be maybe two days into her assignment when Clint would be sent to Budapest. Things there were getting worse, and he would have to be there by himself without her to save his ass for a least four days. She felt a pang of something when she thought about her partner being alone in a city that was falling to pieces. Sure she was concerned for his safety, he was her partner after all, but this felt different. 'Get yourself together Natasha, stop worrying about his feelings. He may be annoying, but he's not stupid. Keep this professional.' She told herself, not allowing her brain to go through all the possibilities of what could happen to him if she weren't there by his side.

Two days later, Clint had gotten his target and was on his way to Budapest. Argentina was a clean mission; get in, eliminate, get out. He had spoken to Natasha briefly earlier that day and she said that her mission was going better than she had planned, but she was never really an optimist to begin with so better was to be expected. She was already on good terms with Seamus Aherne and was ready to take down the organization within the next few days.

Clint's first few hours of surveillance were relatively uneventful, a street fight here, a heated discussion there, nothing to worry about. He was told that not much happened during the day, because the rebels didn't want to be identified and arrested by the government. Clint went from rooftop to rooftop, observing the city and getting generally acquainted with the layout. Being alone without much to do, his mind drifted around different topics ranging from the mission, to the council, to Fury, and finally, to Natasha. He wondered what she was doing in this exact moment. Was she off torturing adolescents, or getting on Aherne's good side, which Clint knew meant more than she led on. He felt a tinge of something that he wouldn't let himself believe was jealousy at the thought of Natasha flirting with a target.

That night, he went back to the safe house and methodically went over what he needed to do before Natasha caught up to him. He stared at the pages for so long that he eventually dozed off. He awoke suddenly and sat straight up. It took him a moment to realize that the room he was in wasn't the circus that he dreamt about. His past haunted him, and he would never let himself forget what he had to do to save all those people so many years ago. Despite the eerie feeling he had from his nightmare, he had a bad feeling about this mission. Both he and Natasha were coming straight form other missions, and wouldn't be able to prepare as they usually would. The rebels were quiet for now, but as Fury said, there is no way they're going to stay that way for very long. Clint just hoped that Natasha would be there with him when they did.

"Again!" Natasha shouted at the thirteen year old assassin-to-be in front of her. "You are weak for your age. I could have killed you at age six." She played this part almost too well, mimicking her trainers from the Red Room. She became the trainer that everyone hated to work with. She worked them to the bone, making them bleed nearly everyday. She hated it. She hated that she had to become exactly who she had escaped from a year and a half ago.

That night, she was going to Seamus Aherne's room to finish her assignment. She had already sent the children to the SHIELD agents that had been waiting for them, and the rest of the people had been arrested. Aherne most likely knew about the fallout of his organization, but Natasha had pretended to be away for the day, so he didn't know it was her. She was just down the hall from his door when she got a call.

"Romanoff, finish your assignment now. You're needed in Budapest. There's a plane a half mile out from your current location. Be there in twenty." After Coulson hung up from the impromptu phone call, Natasha sighed and walked the rest of the way to kill her target.

Aherne put up more of a fight than Natasha had expected, and she was almost caught off guard. Almost. She tried to reach for one of the many knives that she had hidden on her body, but Aherne pulled out a knife faster and went to cut her throat. She dodged the swipe quickly, and defected the blow to her right shoulder. She kicked him in the chest, knocking him back a few feet and distracting him for a moment. She took this moment to grab a knife and run towards him with the unmatched speed and ferocity that no one ever lived to talk about. She drove the knife deep into his chest, not killing him instantly, but he would die soon enough. Unfortunately, she had to stay there until he did. She was forced to watch the life drain out of his eyes, keeping a finger on his pulse until his heart beat no more. Only then did she run to get her things and sprint the half mile to the plane that would take her to the city that was going to pieces.

"You look like shit, Nat." Clint stated, instead of a 'hey, what's up?' or a 'how'd your mission go?'

"Thanks, Barton." She said sarcastically. "This city isn't looking much better." She motioned toward the scene taking place on the street below.

"No, it has sufficiently gone to hell Romanoff." He lightly bumped her shoulder with his own, which made her take a sharp breath through her teeth. "Jesus, Natasha, you have to patch that up before we start trying to fix this mess."

"It's fine, Barton. It's just a scratch." She said, unwilling to admit that the Irishman had gotten a hit in on her.

"It's not fine. It's still bleeding. When did you finish your mission? An hour ago? You need to bandage that before you lose anymore blood."

"I'm fine." She said sternly, wishing he would turn his attention back to the revolution going on below them.

"Fine then, if you won't take care of your shoulder, I will." He said definitively. After cleaned the gash with anesthetic, he had to cut her uniform a bit more to be able to properly bandage the wound. Whether it was intentional or not, he let his fingers gently grace her pale skin, letting them linger there while he made sure the bandage wasn't going to come off easily.

Natasha had always been good at distracting herself from pain, but when Clint's calloused fingers grazed her tender skin, her mind nearly stopped. As soon as she realized that he left his hand on her shoulder, she quickly moved aside.

"What intel have you gathered about the rebels?" She asked, killing any thoughts that may have distracted the two of them from the task at hand.

"That guy there on the wall is the leader of the rebels, and most of the others are ignorant brutes that were recruited for their strength." He turned towards another street and continued. "That line of people is the local government trying, and failing, to control the oncoming force. We're here to take out the leader and anyone else who may get in the way."

"Alright. I'll head down while you take out the leader with your weapon of choice." She said while making a face at his bow and arrow. "Meet me down there and we'll start hacking through the remaining rebels on this street." Her sudden change to cold impressed Clint, but also made him worry that she was just going to ignore her shoulder and get even more hurt down there.

"You sure you're okay by yourself for a bit?" He asked warily.

Natasha shot him a warning look that told him to stop worrying about her. "I've fought with worse." She turned and slid gracefully down the ladder into the alley below, quickly taking down two burly men.

Clint brought an arrow around from his quiver and set it on his bow, stretching it and aiming, compensating for windage. He waited for a moment when none of the rebels were looking at their leader, and let the arrow noiselessly fly through the air to the heart of the man. He quickly slid down a ladder on the opposite side of the building and joined Natasha in the street. They both fought their way to the center where they then stood back to back and covered each other's weak points in combat. What seemed like an endless line of men kept coming after them. They were mostly engaged in hand to hand, but whenever they got the chance, Natasha would fire her Glock and Clint would shoot an arrow at an oncoming attacker.

When the crowd was thinned pretty well, Natasha broke away from Clint and began to fight with one of the largest men she's ever seen. She got a few good hits in, but when she went to kick him in the chest, he caught her foot and flipped her over, making her land on her injured shoulder. Clint took notice of the situation, took out a gun, and shot the men he was battling with. He walked over to a now standing Natasha pushed her away from them, turning to face the man who hurt her. They began a duel of unequal strength. The man was big, yes, but Clint was more agile than him, and knew exactly where to hit every time. The two didn't let up for a short while and another man joined in. Natasha saw that Clint was getting more and more tired as the seconds dragged on so she decided that since she didn't have her Widow Bites on her, she would use her legs to finish the job. She ran at one of the men, using Clint as a ramp when he ducked a blow, and wrapped her legs around the man's neck, twisting his head sharply causing him to fall to the ground. Clint quickly shot the other man while he was stunned by the sight of Natasha's attack.

"That's the last of them." Clint said as he turned to Natasha to make sure she was okay. He looked at her shoulder and pointed. "You're bleeding again."

"I know." She replied. "Let's just get back to the safe house and let Coulson and Fury know that we're done here."

"Or we could tell them later..." Clint turned to Natasha once they were in the alley outside the safe house.

"And do what until then, Barton." Natasha said in a dry tone, not really wanting to know what her partner was thinking.

"I'd like to be your friend Natasha, that is, if you'll let me." The words said one thing, his eyes said another.

"We'll see." Natasha replied, but didn't break their intense eye contact. Suddenly, almost the exact same thoughts rushed into their minds.

Sure they've kissed before, they've had to portray a couple on countless missions, but none of the kisses meant anything. They were stage kisses, planned out to the very second so the right people would see them at the right time. Each of them wanted to know what a real kiss would be like, because even the fake kisses were good, but both of them knew that nothing good could come of it.

Natasha broke eye contact and quickly glanced down at Clint's lips, and he took that as an invitation. Natasha figured that he would do that as soon as she thought about looking at his lips, but she didn't stop him. He not-so-gently pushed her up against a wall and trapped her there with his hands on the wall on either side of her head. They both knew they were breaking SHIELD's code with what they were about to do, but they already broke enough rules over their lifetimes, so one more shouldn't hurt, especially if no one ever found out.

Clint seemed to be hesitating slightly, so Natasha took charge and claimed his lips with hers, snaking her arms around the back of his neck. Their mouths fought for dominance, since neither of them were really the submissive type. Clint let his arms reach down around her back, arching her body further into his. The kiss was heated and spur of the moment, but also deep and passionate, something that neither of them had felt in a long time, if ever. Her full lips worked in perfect time with his, and for a minute, they were lost in each other, in their own little world.

The need for oxygen soon outweighed the feeling of the kiss and Natasha pulled away, taking in blissful oxygen. After a moment, Clint was still breathing hard, but managed one word.

"Wow." He said in between rapid breaths.

Natasha shook her head and huffed. "Fuck you Barton." She said with the smallest hint of a smile as she walked away from her partner.

"I don't think you really mean that Romanoff!" Clint called after her. Neither of them wanted to address what just happened between them, but they couldn't get it off their minds either.

Friends indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I'm so so so sorry that I haven't been updating this on here, I have the whole story on fanfiction.net but I figured I'd put it on here too but I've had so much to do lately (mainly watching supernatural). 
> 
> But I'm planning on posting a few chapters today and feel free to message me if I forget again!

Clint and Natasha were intimidating. Not only were they undeniably the best team at SHEILD, but they were more serious than most of the other agents. Not to mention the fact that they fought constantly, and furiously. They usually tried to keep their scuffles behind closed doors, but today that wasn't going to happen.

Natasha planned on getting out of the gym as fast as she could. She and Clint had just finished an intense sparring match, that had gotten too intense after Clint's hand gently lingered on her neck after pinning her down and holding a sparring knife to her neck. The move was too subtle for anyone else to notice, but to Natasha, it was like he set off an explosion and made a day of it.

Clint grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, backing away a bit after seeing the darkness swirling in her eyes. "What is up with you lately Natasha?!" Clint said in a semi-hushed tone.

"You know exactly what's been 'up' with me." She hissed. Anger was flowing off her in waves, but she stood still so as to not attract attention.

"What, the k-" Clint asked before Natasha cut him off.

"DON'T, Barton." She said with so much force, the entire gym stopped and looked at the pair of master assassins. Her sour reaction to his mention of their moment in Budapest sent him over the edge of fury with her.

"God Tasha," He started

"Don't call me that." She interjected.

He shook his head and just continued. "-the way you react sometimes, you'd think I killed your entire family or something!" He snapped at her.

Natasha froze. So did everyone within earshot. "Too late, Barton! Petrovitch beat you to it!" She spat, curling her hands into fists as she tried to control her anger. Her knuckles turned white and she probably drew blood from the force with which her nails dug into her palms. Her face grew hard and every single wall she had ever needed went up.

Clint regretted the words as soon as he said them. He hated that he just had to let those words slip out of all the words in the english language. After what seemed like an infinite moment of silence and anger, Natasha turned and started to stalk out of the gym. Clint rushed up to her and grabbed both her arms, halting her escape.

"Let. Go." Natasha growled. Clint only tightened his grip on her arms.

"Natasha I'm sorr-" He started to apologize but she wouldn't have it.

Natasha's growl erupted into a fierce scream as she ripped Clint's hands from her arms and flew around to face him, her right fist connecting with his face. Clint paused as he took in her body language. There was no way talking was going to help now, so a fight it was. Clint's eyes suddenly turned almost as dark as his partner's as most of the base watched in horror and amazement.

"I trusted you, Clint." Natasha yelled in between dodges and assaults. "But you're just like everyone else!"

He brought his left arm back in preparation for a punch, but Natasha had already moved out of the way. She came running at him and he knew what she was going to do. She leapt into the air, planning on wrapping her dangerous legs around his neck to send him to the ground. He caught her shins and pushed her away, making her flip over and nearly slam her head onto the floor. She threw her hands over her head to catch herself, letting her body coil up over her shoulders before she shot herself back up to a standing position.

"You know I didn't mean in Natasha!"

They continued to attack and block each other, locked in a rage-filled tango that no one was brave enough to try and stop. The crowd had grown large and there were audible gasps whenever it looked like there was a death blow.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, мудак (asshole)." She said. His sincerity only fueled her rage.

Natasha was angrier than Clint was, so she was on the offensive most of the time. She jumped up and pushed her leg into his hard abdomen, going to kick him in the face with her other leg, when he caught her and flipped her off him once again, letting her land in a standing position. Out of nowhere, she pulled out a knife and lunged at him. He'd had enough of her attacks and decided to mount some of his own. He pulled out a knife of his own, a real one this time, and let his arm fly through the air towards her shoulder. She quickly countered his had by kicking him in the elbow, causing the knife to scatter across the floor. They were still for a second as the sound of the metal connecting with metal wall resonated through the open gym.

Both ran at each other, crashing together with a force that made them both grunt. They were both getting more tired by the second, but that only made them more furious. The fact that their bodies could only take so much, the thought that they could be killed at any point in their lives boiled to the forefront of both of their minds. They circled around each other with all the hate and anger that they had held in for too long, and in that moment, Natasha wished that Clint hadn't learned so much about her past, wished he hadn't broken down some of her walls.

The two stopped moving but didn't break eye contact when they heard a familiar voice shake the gym from the doorway.

"Would anybody like to explain to me what in the HELL is going on here?!" Fury said as he continued to walk over to the fuming agents. Both Clint and Natasha were breathing heavily and Fury decided that it was time for this to stop. He called over the four strongest men in the room at the time to restrain the two.

"Smith, Cothren, bring Agent Barton to recovery room 1. And Pearson and Morgen, bring Agent Romanoff to the farthest recovery room from Barton's." With that, Fury sighed and walked away. "Motherfuckin' messed up spies gonna kill each other one day." He said under his breath.

None of the four agents looked all too enthused to have to come near Clint or Natasha, let alone have to restrain them. Clint didn't resist the two, and they loosened their tight grips a bit. Natasha, however, didn't comply as easily.

"Don't touch me." She said through clenched teeth. The two huge agents looked at each other before Pearson spoke.

"Sorry Agent Romanoff, Director's orders." He said as the two grabbed her arms in both of their hands and exited the gym the opposite way Clint had been taken.

Fury stepped into the room where Clint was being held after he was checked out by the on call doctor.

"You of all people should know better than to use Romanoff's past against her, Barton." He started.

Clint didn't respond to the comment, but asked a question instead.

"When are you going to undo these restraints?"

"When I have decided that you are no longer a threat to everyone on base, though I imagine you'll be let out sooner than Agent Romanoff."

Clint had calmed down considerably since the scene in the gym, and figured that being angry wasn't going to help anything right now. He let out a sigh of defeat and Fury undid the restraints that tied him to the bed.

"I'm going to go check on Romanoff, and Coulson will be here with you to make sure you don't do anything else stupid today."

Fury left after the short conversation and his presence was replaced by that of Clint's handler, and friend, Phil Coulson.

"Look, Coulson, I feel like shit for what I said to her and if I could take it back, I would do anything to do so." Clint admitted.

"I know, but we're just going to have to wait until she calms down for you to talk to her. She wouldn't even look at me when I went in to check on her." Coulson added that last part quietly because he didn't want Clint to feel guilty, but he knew he'd want to know everything. Clint was masochistic that way, Coulson guessed.

"She's gonna do a number on Fury." Clint said dryly, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

"I think he can hold his own, Clint." Coulson said with a hint of a smile. He and Clint both knew that Natasha had been a challenge for Fury at the beginning because he didn't know if he could trust her, and she certainly didn't trust him.

'Trust.' Clint thought

"She said she trusted me. I broke that and she said I was just like the others. She didn't mean the others here. She meant the men from her past." Clint thought aloud, a far away look taking over his face.

"It was a freak, heated moment Clint, don't beat yourself up about it, it wasn't your fault." Coulson said, trying to bring the archer back to reality.

Clint's face went blank, and he dropped his eyes to the floor. 'But it was my fault.' He thought about how his hand lingered on her when they were sparring. 'It was entirely my fault.'

After an unbearably long five minutes of silence between Director Fury and Natasha, who was still tied down to the bed, Fury thought that it was time to calm down the agent that was a ticking time bomb.

"I told Barton that he's a stupid ass for pulling such a low blow back there." He stated in his ever-professional-stern tone.

Natasha scoffed and continued to stare at the wall behind Fury.

"I know you're not one to talk things out, but - goddammit Romanoff look at me!" Fury interrupted himself. Natasha turned to look at him with cold green eyes. "- but you and Agent Barton going to have to figure things out if you want to stay partners. I can't have you terrorizing each other and the entire base on a daily basis."

Natasha held back a flinch when Fury mentioned how he would end her and Clint's partnership if they didn't get it together. She didn't want to stop being Clint's partner, she just really hated him right now, but she couldn't deny that she didn't only hate him no matter how much she wanted to.

Fury noticed that she wasn't going to say anything, so he just continued. "I don't know what that little show was about, nor do I want to know," He said, giving her a look, "but what I do know is that you and Agent Barton are the most stubborn motherfucking agents I've ever had the displeasure of working with. Now, if you promise to behave and not get wrapped up in any riots for the rest of the day, I suppose I can let you out of the restraints."

Natasha nodded to Fury, letting him know that she was in no mood to repeat her earlier actions, so he undid the ties and called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. "You can leave this room whenever you like, just try to avoid conflict. At least for now."

Natasha left the room a few moments after Fury did, and walked towards the mess hall, she needed some food after using up all her energy being angry. She tried to ignore the looks she was getting from the other agents on base as she silently made her way through the halls, but literally everyone was looking at her and whispering. Normally she would have given them all a look that kills, but after today's events, all she wanted to was eat and go read a book. She got her food and made her way to the table that she and Clint usually shared, but luckily he wasn't there at the moment.

A few minutes later, Clint walked into the mess hall and everyone took notice that the two agents were both there. He got his food and went to a table on the other side of the room as Natasha. The two shared a quick glance before he sat down and they disappeared from each other's lines of sight.

Coincidentally, Clint and Natasha finished eating at the same time and ended up in the hallway together. Clint was the first to speak.

"Sorry for that." He said as he pointed to a nasty bruise on her pale shoulder.

"It's nothing, you're the one with the black eye." She responded. She was cold, but she was talking.

Clint took a deep breath and Natasha knew exactly what he was going to say.

"Clint, I know you didn't really mean what you said. You don't have to apologize." She stated before he could speak.

"But I do, Natasha. I obviously hurt you and I hate myself for it. I lost control after I saw how you reacted when I mentioned - you know." Clint said, stepping slightly closer to his partner.

"What I don't get is why you got so angry about that. You're supposed to be the calmer one in this partnership; I get all angry, and you say something childish to calm me down." Natasha gave him a searching look while she waited for him to answer.

"We should finish talking somewhere where we aren't getting looks from dumbass newbies." He stated as he noticed the wary looks everyone was giving them.

They walked to Clint's room, and left the door cracked open, just in case they erupted again.

"So, why did you react like that?" Natasha asked once they were alone.

"It's just that, I guess I thought that it meant something." He responded, refusing to make eye contact with her.

"It did Clint, that's the reason I acted the way I did." She admitted, looking down at the ground.

When they were alone, Clint and Natasha could act like normal people, or at least their version of normal. They didn't have to put of facades to intimidate people, or be serious every moment of the day. They learned that when they were alone, they could be themselves, but what being themselves meant they still hadn't figured out.

Clint could see Natasha taking down some of her walls, and he admired her bravery to let someone in.

"I'm honored." Clint said out of the blue.

"For what?" Natasha asked, genuinely curious but still staring holes into the floor.

Clint gently put a hand under her chin and lifted her face so she looked at him in the eye.

"For being the only person to get to see you without all your walls up."


	10. Chapter 10

"Coulson, you of all people know that Natasha and I can do this with our hands tied behind our backs." Clint stated as he looked at the advanced-level training course.

"Yes, Barton, I know. Just do it, okay?" Coulson said back in a fatherly tone. He only used that tone when he was around Clint and Natasha because he knew that they could use a father figure in their lives that wasn't trying to kill them or turn them into killing machines.

"Yessir." Clint replied with a sigh. He turned to Natasha with a goofy yet dark grin spreading across his features. "Let's kick some virtual ass, Tasha."

Natasha just rolled her eyes and waited for the bell to tell them to start. She was used to him calling her nicknames when it was just them, but she always felt a little uneasy when he used them around other people. She felt like if people knew that he called her 'Nat', or 'Tasha', then she would be less of a threat. Coulson had even taken to calling her by her first name sometimes, but that was only when something had gone wrong on a mission, so she wasn't particularly fond of that.

The bell rang, initiating the training exercise and much to the surprise of everyone there, nothing happened. No targets popped out, not shots rang out through the stadium, no other agents came running at them, nothing.

Coulson had told the crew in charge of the arena to make this exercise as difficult as they could, but he didn't think this is what they would come up with.

"Agents." Fury's voice echoed through the course. "I think you're all up to date on how to fight, it's the conversations that need a little work."

The three of them tried to pinpoint where Fury was, but not even Clint could find him. He may be the Director, but he was still the spy. No one spoke for a few moments, but apparently that was enough for Fury to become impatient and show himself.

"Could you all be semi-normal for a minute?" He stated more than asked as he appeared in front of them from who knows where.

"Never thought I'd here you say those words boss, but I'm not sure what you mean by conversations needing work, Natasha and I communicate in the field just fine." Clint said, still trying to figure out where the Director had hidden himself.

"You damn well know what I'm talking about, Barton. I can't have Agent Romanoff trying to kill you every time you say something stupid, which is far too often for my liking." Fury answered in a stern voice. The last part made Natasha and Coulson smile ever so slightly. Clint looked a little offended so Coulson decided to butt in.

"Well, I guess we're going to talk then." Coulson said in a matter-of-fact tone. "This should be fun."

"Please don't kill each other, Agents," Fury said to Natasha and Clint while he walked away. "That'd be a hell of a lot of paperwork for Coulson to do."

"I'd bring you back to life just to kill you myself if that happens." Coulson said in an oddly professional manner as he motioned for Clint and Natasha to head towards the door.

"After you, sir." Clint said with a smirk.

Coulson sighed and shook his head as he walked to the door. He was so caught up thinking about how many ways this could go wrong that he almost missed the look that the two master assassins shared.

For months after Clint and Natasha's not-so-little explosion in the gym, Phil Coulson had worked overtime to make sure the team was at the best possible level of trust and ability. Little did he know, they would end up doing some work of their own.

Once they were out in the hallway, Coulson spoke. "I'll let you two decide where we're going to speak since you're going to have to be comfortable, but please don't choose the gym. We don't want to repeat the past."

"Coulson, it's been three months since the fight and things have gone pretty smoothly since then." Clint said out of pure annoyance that even their handler was tip-toeing around that situation.

"Barton' room." Natasha stated, receiving a smirk form Clint and a confused look from Coulson.

"Okay..." Coulson half asked, prompting Natasha to elaborate.

"I'd rather not let my guard down where there are a lot of people. And Barton's room is actually kind of nice." She explained nonchalantly, and started heading in the direction of his room.

Coulson shot Clint a look of slight disbelief and Clint just shrugged in response as to say, 'Don't ask me.' The two quickly followed the unpredictable red-haired assassin to her place of choice.

Clint opened the door to his room but stood in the doorway, turning to face Natasha and Coulson. "Sorry for the mess, I haven't had time to clean today since we were supposed to be training."

"Barton, you have like four personal belongings, how could your room be mess-" Natasha started as she pushed past Clint into his room, "Oh." Was all she said when she noticed the usually clean room in a state of complete disarray.

"I told you is was messy, Natasha. I have no reason to lie to you." Clint said in defense of his room.

Natasha shot him a look as she stepped over the pile of papers next to his bed and went to sit in his desk chair.

"Uh uh Romanoff, I sit there, you two sit on the uh - mattress." Coulson said as he noticed that Clint's bed wasn't even remotely made. Natasha shook her head in mild disgust as she looked at the bare mattress.

"God, Natasha, if you don't want to be here why did you choose my room?" Clint asked heatedly.

"You know I don't like people in my room, Barton. I always have to make sure no one placed anything in it." She responded.

"It's not my fault you're a security freak." Clint mumbled under his breath loud enough for the others to hear.

"Alright, before you two go for each others' throats, let's begin." Coulson said, trying to diffuse the rapidly heated conversation. He told them that they were to go back and forth with yes or no questions about anything that wouldn't likely spark a fight. Clint and Natasha both looked at him incredulously. He looked back at them with raised eyebrows. "I'm waiting." He said as he motioned for them to begin.

Clint was the first to come up with a question, although it one that mocked the exercise. "Is your name Natasha Romanoff?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"This is not a joke, Barton. Everyone on base still gets a little worried when they see you two talking, and I want to fix that just as much as you do." Coulson cut in, and Clint gave him an understanding look. He did hate that people were still treating him and Natasha like a ticking time bomb.

Clint turned back to Natasha and they continued the questioning. "Do you trust me, Barton?"

"Yes, Natasha, I trust you." Clint responded. "Can you call me by my first name?"

"I suppose so," She answered. He gave her a look telling her to continue. "Clint." She said, giving him a look of her own. "Why do you trust me?"

"That's not a yes or no question Tasha. This exercise isn't a joke." He said mimicking the gestures of their handler when he had said the same thing just moments ago.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Fine. What's your favorite type of music?"

"Classic rock and alternative. You?" He asked, generally interested in her answer. She didn't really seem like a 'Top 40' type of person.

"Classical music. It reminds me of when I was a dancer, or at least thought I was." She said with a hint of sadness swirling in her eyes.

Clint gave her a comforting look and that seemed to snap her out of whatever hell she was imagining about the Red Room. The two continued their rapid fire questions for just under an hour when Coulson decided that the two can actually hold a civil conversation without ripping each others' throats out.

"Now that you two have proven to at least one person on base that you don't actually hate each other, I'll leave you to do whatever you like for the rest of the day while I tell Fury that you can be trusted to have a conversation without erupting." With that, he left Clint's room, and the two spies as he shut the door behind him. He couldn't help but notice that there was definitely more than one conversation happening back there. The looks they gave each other, the body language that each of them subconsciously responded to, made it seem like the two knew each other for a very long time. Or that there was something between them that they weren't letting known to the public.

'If only Fury could have seen that, he would have lectured them on how actions like that get you compromised.' Coulson thought as he walked toward Director Fury's office. He didn't want Clint and Natasha to know that he knew about whatever was going on between them, so he decided that wasn't a crucial element of the exercise and wouldn't tell his boss about their hidden language.

Clint and Natasha stayed in the room and sat in silence for a bit, but it wasn't awkward, it never was between them. They enjoyed the fact that they didn't have to be talking to communicate.

"He figured it out." Clint said, finally breaking the silence.

"Figured what out?" Natasha asked, pretty much knowing what he was talking about, but she needed to know for sure.

"This whole thing we have going between us, Tasha."

"What, how we're able to have spoken and unspoken conversations simultaneously? Anyone who observed us for five minutes could see that." She responded, not wanting to admit that there was something else behind it.

Clint sighed and tried another tactic to get Natasha to open up and be truthful with herself about this. "Do you like me, Nat?"

That caught her kind of off guard. "I kind of have to like you, we're partners."

"You know that's not what I meant." He said with a stern look in his eyes. "Do you like me, yes or no?"

Natasha broke eye contact to look at the floor. "I don't like people, Clint."

Clint took a deep breath and put a hand under her chin to bring her eyes to his again. "Natasha, we've been partners for two and a half years now, you may be a good liar but I can tell when you're not being truthful with yourself, and with me."

"I don't do this kind of thing, Clint." Natasha responded. It wasn't what what he wanted to hear, but he knew it was the truth.

"And I don't want to force you to do anything, Tasha. I just need you to be honest about how you feel." Noticing how guarded she had become, Clint continued. "No one's here to judge you. No one will think less of you for what you say here. It's just us. You trust me right?"

Natasha sighed, knowing that she couldn't go on trying to hide things from her partner and herself. "Of course I trust you, but I've only felt something like this once before in my past, and ended up being a complete lie." She said as memories of Alexei Shostakov started to flood her mind. "I promised myself I wouldn't let that happen again, that I have to stay strong no matter what. I told myself I would never fall for anyone, but then again, I told myself to never trust anyone farther than I could throw them, and you changed that too."

She said the last part with such unwavering eye contact that Clint knew he had his answer, though it would take time before she could say the words. But for now, this was all he needed.

Clint smiled at Natasha like no one else ever did. She felt comfortable with him. She knew she could trust him with her life, but being able to trust him with information she hadn't even admitted to herself before was something she never had. She like it. She liked him.

Clint reached over and moved Natasha so she was sitting on his lap, facing him. She gave him an arched eyebrow and an eye roll, but didn't resist. He brought their faces dangerously close and gave her a look with a certain question in it. She nodded her head ever so slightly and anyone else would have missed it. Not Clint.

"I kinda like you too." He said with a smirk as he closed the gap between their lips. This kiss wasn't like the last one, it wasn't fast and heated, it was soft and heartfelt. He poured everything he felt into it, and soon Natasha was doing the same. They were lost in each other like neither of them had ever been before. Neither of them were big on words, but this kiss said everything. There was pain and agony, but each of them worked to ease some of it with as much softness as they could possess in their world. There was nothing overtly sexual about the kiss, but the way they were wrapped up in each other's arms and how their lips worked in perfect synchronicity, they felt safe. Nothing could hurt them here, nothing could disturb them-

Natasha's phone started ringing. Reluctantly, they pulled away and rested their foreheads together, Natasha trying to regain her breath before she answered the phone.

"Do you have to answer that?" Clint whined quietly.

Natasha let out a breathy laugh that made Clint's heart clench. "Yes, I do." She said as she lifted herself off her partner and reached for her phone. "Romanoff." She answered.

"Report to Director Fury's office. There's a mission that we need to brief you for. Just you." Coulson said quickly before hanging up.

"What was that about?" Clint asked.

"A solo mission."

"Where are you going?"

"I guess I'll find out when I get there." She responded. She walked over to the mirror to hide any evidence of what just happened before she met with the Director.

"I really hope you leaving after we kiss doesn't become a habit, Romanoff." Clint called after her playfully as she walked towards the door. She turned and gave him a sultry look.

"You don't mind watching me walk away, Barton" She said just before she put on the serious face that she wore most of the time, and slipped into the hallway.

"Agent Romanoff, there is a certain influential figure in Malibu who we need you to monitor. He is currently in need of a new assistant and we feel if we send you in there, there's no way he could turn you down. You'll need business attire and your uniform, just in case." Fury began as he slid the folder towards Natasha. "You'll be going undercover as 'Natalie Rushman', a transfer from the legal department."

Natasha read through the file thoroughly while Fury finished up the briefing. Before she left the office, she innocently made a case why she and Clint needed to be able to contact each other while she was on assignment. Fury granted her this, not wanting her absence on the helicarrier to mess up whatever calm may have risen between the two agents.

Natasha collected her things and was on her way to the plane that would take her to Stark Enterprises when she found herself face to face with Clint. There were other agents that were walking around the hangar, so the two tried to be as professional as possible while still flirting in their hidden language.

"Can't tell me where you're going?" Clint said with a glint in his eye.

"Two words: Tony Stark." Natasha replied with an annoyed look on her face.

Clint leaned down closer to her to whisper in her ear so no one else could hear him. "That playboy better not try and steal you away from me."

The closeness of his breath to her ear and the low rumble of a chuckle that followed had Natasha quickly tensing up so she didn't react. He pulled himself away and they both composed their faces into the austere looks they were so used to.

"Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone, Barton." Natasha said with a small raise of her eyebrow.

"I think there's a higher risk of trouble with you here, Romanoff." He replied with a half smirk crossing his mouth.

Natasha shook her head and scoffed at his comment when she turned and got on the jet. 'He's going to get us caught one day.' She thought. She couldn't help but think that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

As Natalie Rushman sauntered away from the training room in the mansion, Tony Stark turned to his girlfriend/CEO, Pepper Potts. "I want one."

Pepper quickly turned to face Tony, "No."


	11. Chapter 11

"So how does it feel to have almost shot an arrow through the heart of a god?" Natasha asked Clint as they ate lunch in the mess hall after he got back from New Mexico.

"Demi-God." Clint corrected. "And I don't think it would have hurt him too much, let alone kill him." Clint was always a little standoffish after returning from a solo mission, especially one where his weapon of choice was constantly being made fun of by agents that preferred machine guns and sniper rifles.

"You better snap yourself out of whatever funk you've gotten yourself into because we have tomorrow to recover and then we have a mission, and it's a long one." Natasha said matter-of-factly.

"They just won't give us a break, will they Tash." Clint said, shaking his head and letting himself relax a bit.

"This is our job, Barton." Natasha said with a raised eyebrow. "And I don't think either of us would know what to do with ourselves if we didn't have it." She continued, without looking up from her food.

"Did you think you would need this job so much when you chose it?" Clint asked.

Natasha gave him a look that was full of the remorse she never thought she could possess and spoke at a low volume so no one else could hear. "I didn't choose this life, Clint."

Realizing the way he worded the question was wrong, he corrected himself. "I mean, did you think you'd need this job when I brought you to SHEILD?"

"I may not have chosen this type of life, but it's the only one I know, so I guess I kind of knew I'd never be able to leave. Willingly at least." She said.

Clint nodded in agreement with the fact that he too would never be able to leave this life, no matter how much he may want to at times. The two sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the fact that they both survived their solo missions.

"Agent Romanoff!" An agent called out from the doorway and Natasha stood up, alerting him to her location. The agent started walking towards the two and most of the cafeteria watched.

Clint stood and looked at Natasha, confused. "What's this about?"

"While you were gone, I got bored of not having anyone to beat while sparring, so Coulson got me to temporarily volunteer with new recruit classes." She responded with a small shrug.

"Oh that's gotta be interesting." Clint said with a breathy laugh that made Natasha smile a little bit.

The other agent made it over to the two assassins and turned to Clint. "You're welcome to watch, Agent Barton. Agent Romanoff might even let you help her demonstrate." Natasha nodded in agreement. "God knows I wouldn't mind a break." He finished softly.

The two master spies shared a look that made the agent a little intimidated.

"I've only been gone five days longer than you have and you're already busy terrorizing half the people on base?" Clint said teasingly.

That made Natasha laugh lightly, which elicited two very different reactions. Clint smiled at the fact that Natasha was feeling more comfortable on base and was able to actually seem kind of human around others. However, the agent she'd been training recruits with, along with most of the agents in close hearing distance looked at her with disbelief.

One of the people who was sitting near the conversation felt the need to comment to his friends about her laugh. "She laughs?" His words weren't meant for Natasha to hear, but she heard them anyway.

Natasha quickly steeled her face into a serious look and stared right at the agent who though himself funny. He froze for a second, then looked back down at his food while he warily cleared his throat, hoping to rid himself of the attention.

This time it was Clint's turn to laugh at his partner's actions. "Alright Nat," He said still chuckling lightly, and placed a hand on the small of her back briefly, prompting her to start walking from the cafeteria. "Let's get to the gym before you're late for class."

The three agents arrived at one of the gyms minutes later. The agent that led the class entered before Clint and Natasha to start the class and let the recruits know of the guest instructors they had the luck of working with that day. Meanwhile, Clint and Natasha devised a quick plan to surprise the class.

When the instructor called out for Clint and Natasha to enter the gym, thinking they would enter from the door he left them out, he was thrown for a loop when only Natasha appeared behind the group of recruits without a sound. She cleared her throat purposefully, making everyone turn around to her.

"First lesson, never go anywhere unarmed." She said as she started to pull knives out of her uniform. All in all, there ended up being a collection of more than a dozen knives neatly placed on the ground, not to mention the two guns she had in her holsters. The group stared at her for a few moments, some of them intrigued, but most of them having a new-found fear of confrontation with Natasha.

"Do you think you can go five minutes without making a room of people stare at you like deer in headlights, Romanoff?" Clint called out from the rafters, causing everyone but Natasha to look around and try to pinpoint where he was.

"That's not in my nature, Barton." Natasha called back, making the group turn their attention to her again.

Clint soundlessly jumped down from the ceiling and stood behind the class. "Should of figured." He startled most everyone there with the sudden closeness of his voice and people were looking back and forth between him and Natasha, wondering what they had planned for them.

The instructor cleared his throat to regain composure in the training gym. "Strike Team Delta, everyone." He said as he motioned towards Clint and Natasha, respectively, with an exhausted look on his face. "Have at 'em."

"Sir, it would be our genuine pleasure." Natasha said as Clint made her way through the group of recruits over to her partner after putting all her knives back where they belong.

"Have you worked with this group before, Natasha?" Clint said, using her first name.

Natasha gave him a look that told him to be professional and responded, "No, Barton, I haven't."

A wicked grin spread across Clint's face as he addressed the class. "Who's first?"

Everyone looked around at each other before most eyes landed on a large guy who seemed pretty sure of himself. Clint nodded towards him and he came forwards.

"Barton, if you don't mind, I'd like the honors of sparring first." Natasha said as she quickly eyed up her opponent.

"As you wish, Romanoff." Clint said as he stood off to the side.

The trainee gave Natasha the once over and decided that she's too attractive to do any damage when up against him. "I've done quite a bit of boxing in my day, so I'll try not to hurt you too bad." He said with a seductive smirk.

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him and Clint mumbled exactly what she was thinking. "I'd like to see you try to get one hit in."

Natasha smiled darkly at the agent for a small bit of a moment, then quickly changed it to the glare that looks as if it could kill someone. Clint blew the whistle, starting the sparring match.

The man pulled his right arm back in preparation for a punch, but Natasha grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and threw him to the ground, pinning him there within seconds. "Next." She called out while looking directly into the eyes of the cocky trainee.

The other trainees knew that Natasha was good, but that guy was the best in their class and if she could take him down that fast, there was no hope for the rest of them. One of the made a statement that referred to the match, and to the rest of their time in the gym that day:

"Oh, shit."

Clint and Natasha had been sent to Madrid to observe the inner workings of the local ETA terrorist cell, which was started in Basque as a proponent for the region's independence. They would then take out the leader when they've gotten all the information they need. Needless to say, this was going to be a long mission.

Clint and Natasha were on a rooftop that overlooked the Puerta del Sol, waiting for the long term target to walk through to the restaurant he was meeting at, but they were really early and Natasha was getting impatient. Suddenly, someone in the square started playing spanish guitar. Natasha smiled to herself.

Clint noticed the change in his partner and became curious. "What?"

"I know this song." She said almost disbelievingly.

"Well what is it?" Clint prodded.

"It's called 'Pursuit of Cygnus Thief'. It's one of my favorites." Natasha said, moving slightly to the intoxicating beat.

"Dance with me." Clint said, standing up.

"Clint, we're supposed to be watching out for Martéz."

"Natasha, we're over an hour ahead of schedule, I think we can spare a few minutes." He responded, pulling her up and holding her in a ballroom dance stance.

Natasha sighed in defeat, but secretly wanted to dance just as much as Clint did. He pulled her into an 8-step tango that was slow at first so they could get accustomed to each others movements, and then sped up with the music. Both of them had experience with this type of dance before since they've had all sorts of covers all over the world.

They swayed together on the resting beats, and their feet moved in a pattern that was truly a work of art. Natasha kicked her legs low in such a way that would make professional dancers a little jealous. Clint lead her using his torso and their unspoken communication. He broke the clasp of their hands and caught her right knee with his hand and brought it up to his hip. He walked backwards, supporting Natasha's waist while gracefully dragging her a few feet and then let her stand again before twirling her away from him and letting their arms straighten out. Natasha gave him a look that said 'corny bastard' while she spun herself quickly back into her partner, her back to his chest and they swayed for a bit before she turned to face him again. The tempo of the song was picking up rapidly, notifying the approaching end and the two once again engaged themselves in a quick yet graceful battle that was a mix of the Argentine Tango with hints of Salsa. They were moving so fast, Natasha's hair was whipping her in the face as she moved her head in the traditional fashion. On the very last beat of the song, Clint pulled Natasha tight against his own body and held her there for a second while they caught their breath.

"We should get back to surveillance now, Barton." Natasha stated.

"Not yet." He said as he leaned down to wipe the confused look off his partners face. He claimed her lips with his in a kiss that could only be described as an equal match to the dance they just did. After a few moments, Clint decided that they really should get back to business.

"Now we can get back to surveillance." He said flatly as he pulled away from Natasha and went back to sniper mode.

Natasha let out a puff of air as she decided that she would never get used to the rapid changes that her partner seemed to go through at the weirdest of times.

Throughout the next few weeks, Clint and Natasha had cased the entirety of the terrorist organization and managed to bug their meeting places, and a few restaurants in the area that the members frequented. Tonight was the night of the takedown, and Clint and Natasha were going in as a couple to 'accidentally' bump into the Martéz at a local bar.

They were staying in a safe house that overlooked Gran Via, and each of their rooms had a great view, but they rarely ever opened the curtains. Tonight though, Clint was in his room waiting for Natasha to finish getting ready and he was sitting by the window, observing the people below who were illuminated by the warmth of the street lamps. He couldn't help but think that this is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, there was history here, there was culture here, there was life here.

"Clint," Natasha called from her room, breaking Clint away from his thoughts. He walked over to her room and stood in the doorway. "Could you zip me up?" She said as she turned away from him and pulled her flaming curls off to the side, revealing her bare back.

Clint walked up to her. "Can't do this yourself?" He said jokingly.

"I can, but it's faster if someone else does it." She replied even though he wasn't really looking for an answer.

He zipped up her dress quickly in response to her snarky comment. When he lingered behind her, Natasha turned around to face him and wondered what was running through his mind right before they were about to go and take out a terrorist ring leader.

Clint started to lower his face towards hers and she realized.

Natasha put and hand up to his mouth and shook her head. "Uh-uh Hawkeye."

He gave her a puzzled look.

"We have a target to take down." She said as she reached for her heels. "And you really think I'd allow you to mess up my lipstick?" She added as her head tilted slightly. She knew he couldn't resist when she did that.

He knew she was testing him so he decided to play it off like it didn't phase him. "Two can play that game, Black Widow." He turned and left her room, grabbed his compact bow that would fit discreetly in his pocket, and returned to Natasha's room. She had part of her dress pulled up higher as she was just finishing attaching one final knife to her thigh and pretended like he wasn't there as she slowly slid the knife into the holder. She stood up straight and pulled the dress back down over her thigh, hiding the knife perfectly.

Clint responded by reaching his left arm up and rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from her to the window. The way his suit jacket opened up and how his body slouched slightly with the movement had Natasha hiding the fact that she was actually reacting to his ploy. She quickly brushed Clint and put on her mission persona.

"Get your ass moving before you make us late, Barton." She said as she put her favorite Glock 22 into her clutch.

"Just gotta make a quick call to Coulson first." He said, reminding his ever-impatient partner that they needed to figure out when the extraction team was coming for them. He held his phone up to his ear and waited for Coulson to answer. "Coulson, yeah it's Barton."

"Got plans for Martéz tonight?"

"Yeah we're just about to go take him out"

"You're both going in right?"

"Yes sir."

"Undercover as a couple, I presume?" Coulson asked almost innocently.

"Uh-huh." Clint said back nonchalantly, hoping Coulson would let it roll of his shoulder.

"You two are getting pretty good at that." Coulson said, mostly in reference to the team's normal choice of cover.

"It's our usual, Coulson." Clint said and Natasha noticed something, 'is he blushing?'

"'Course it is. Extraction will be two blocks east of your safe house at eight o'clock tomorrow morning since there's no definite mission end time tonight. Behave yourselves." That was all Coulson said before he hung up and let the two agents get down to business.

Once Clint and Natasha arrived at the bar, they immediately took seats close to Martéz and his date. Natasha had to admit that the couple wasn't too bad looking.

Natasha did most of the speaking, even though Clint had gotten much better at speaking Spanish since their mission in Texas. Not surprisingly, their target approached them not too long after their arrival.

He had noticed their tendency to speak English to each other. "Now, what brought a nice American couple such as yourselves to this part of town?" He asked in English, but with a thick Spanish accent.

"Quería ver cómo los nativos tengan divertido." (He wanted to see how the natives have fun.) Natasha responded in Spanish, Spain accent and all as she motioned towards Clint.

"Ah, hablan español, Celia." (They speak Spanish.) He said as he turned to his date with a surprised look on his face. He turned back to focus on the intriguing pair. "Como os llaman ustedes?" (What are your names?)

"Me llamo Carmen, y esto es John." (My name is Carmen and this is John.) Natasha responded, using their cover names.

"Carmen, tienes un accento española, eres de España originalmente?" (You have a Spanish accent, are you from Spain originally?) Martéz asked, and Natasha was growing gladder by the second that her cover story was in-depth.

"Sí, nací en Zaragoza, pero luego me mudé a Nueva York. De donde eres?" (Yes, I was born in Zaragoza but later moved to New York City. Where are you from?) She added the question to hopefully divert the attention away from her and her partner.

"Soy del Basque. Por favor, no me juzgues por eso." (I'm from the Basque region. Please, don't judge be for this.) He said with a chuckle. He knew that at least Natasha would think making fun of the troubled region was funny, but Clint laughed a bit as well.

Natasha laughed to keep the conversation lighthearted, and a little flirty. "No juzgaré, pero mis padres te juzgarían. Pero están viejos y no entienden la situación en tu parte del país." (I won't judge you, but my parents would. But they're old and don't understand the situation in your part of the country.) Natasha said convincingly.

"Eres una revolucionaria Carmen. No hay mucha gente como tú fuera del Basque." (You're a revolutionary Carmen. There aren't many people like you outside of Basque.) Martéz said, surprised. "Te gustaría ver algunas cosas sobre este? Tengo los papeles en mi coche." (Would you like to see some things about this? I have the papers in my car.) He said, completely oblivious to the fact that Clint and Natasha were waiting for the moment when they could take him down in private.

"Sería muy bien, pero si no te importa, cómo te llamas?" (That would be great, but if you don't mind, what's your name?) Natasha asked innocently with a smile on her face, making it seem like she didn't want to go somewhere with a stranger.

"Oh, lo siento! Me llamo Fabián Martéz." (Oh I'm sorry, my name is Fabián Martéz.) He replied, a little embarrassed that he forgot to properly introduce himself. "John," He said, turning his attention to Clint. "Te gustaría ver los también?" (Would you like to them too?)

"Sí, me gustaría aprender sobre la historia de España." (I would like to learn about the history of Spain.) Clint replied, appearing happy to learn about the country.

"Entonces, vamos!" (Well then, lets' go!) Martéz said excitedly. The three of them walked outside, Martéz leaving his date inside with some men, presumably henchmen. No one in the bar even noticed that they left. That worked to Clint and Natasha's advantage.

Clint made sure they were out of the line of sight of the other men inside while Natasha distracted their target as they made their way to his car. She was tired of being so fake, so she put on her normal serious face and motioned for Martéz to make his way to an alleyway. No one else was outside but they wanted to be safe.

Once they were in the alley, Martéz started to try and fight back, but both Clint and Natasha pinned him down. The two spies shared a devious look and Martéz was about to yell for help when Clint pulled a syringe out of no where and stuck it in the man's neck. An inordinate amount cyanide quickly coursed through the terrorist's veins and he was dead in minutes.

Clint and Natasha hid the body where they were told to so the extraction team would pick it up in the morning, leaving no trace of Martéz whatsoever.

The two master assassins disappeared from the area and got back to the safe house faster than they had expected. They habitually checked the apartment for anything out of the ordinary, and when they found nothing, they sighed in relief.

"What did Coulson say about extraction?" Natasha asked as she started to disarm herself.

"Tomorrow morning at eight." Clint responded as he too, removed his weapons.

"Huh. What are we supposed to do tonight?" Natasha asked, causing Clint to laugh darkly.

"We could...talk." He said seductively as he walked over to Natasha and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind.

She froze for a second but then decided to turn the tables on her partner. "What did Coulson say that made you blush earlier?"

Clint was a little shocked by that, he had hoped she didn't notice. "I did not blush." He said sternly.

"Yeah, you did, Barton." Natasha said, removing herself from his grasp, no matter how much she wanted to stay there. When Clint didn't answer, she asked again. "What did he say." She said with more force this time as she reached down to her thigh where one of her knives still was.

"No need to get violent, Tasha." He said, regarding where her hand had gone. "He said that we're getting good at playing a couple." He mumbled under his breath. Natasha almost didn't hear him.

"Well, we are still technically on the mission even though are target is dead..." Natasha replied, surprising Clint with a continuation of his earlier dark flirting.

"What are you suggesting, Romanoff?" He asked, using her last name instead of a nickname.

"Our cover is a couple, so we might as well act like one," She said, roughly pushing her hand against his hard chest when she accented one word. "Ya know?" She finished as she locked her green eyes with his grey ones.

"That shouldn't be too hard." Clint said as he smirked down at his partner. "This place is meant to not be found."

"Mmhmm" Natasha hummed as her lips collided with Clint's. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she brought her arms around his neck and rubbed it, not unlike he had done earlier. He walked them backwards so her back was against a wall. Natasha huffed against his lips out of frustration because she couldn't move her head very well. His arms snaked down lower and motioned for her to wrap her dangerous legs around his waist, breaking the kiss briefly as she did so. He smashed his lips back to hers, and deepened the kiss when he pushed her into the wall harder. He squeezed his hands on Natasha's thighs and elicited a moan from somewhere deep within her. He smiled against her lips at his ability to make her do something like that involuntarily. She retaliated by grasping a handful of his hair and pulling hard. She smiled until she felt him react like what she did was a positive thing.

'Masochist.' She thought.

The two were caught up in each other for a while when Clint lightly moved his right hand along the lines of the muscle in Natasha's left leg because at this point she was supporting herself really. She tightened her grip on his waist and ground herself against him, making Clint moan against her lips. For once, he was quickly growing impatient.

"Too...many...clothes." He whispered against her lips in between passionate kisses.

Natasha chuckled lightly, something she rarely ever did. "You too." She said in a surprisingly strong voice.

The two broke the kiss but barely pulled away, smiling at each other like they never thought they could. They couldn't help but think that they were lucky for finding each other in this hellish world they were wrapped up in.

The two of them woke up the next morning at seven o'clock, wrapped up in each other's arms in Clint's bed, smelling of sex and each other. They were perfectly contented until Natasha noticed the time.

"Clint," She started. "We have one hour to get cleaned up and get our asses to the extraction point with all our stuff."

Clint grunted in protest when she left the bed suddenly. She was about to leave his room when she heard his voice from behind her.

"Seriously, Tasha, this whole walking away thing is not going to fly for much longer." He said as he finally got out of bed.

Natasha laughed warmly as she continued out the door.

At exactly eight o'clock, the two agents were met by an extraction team to take them back to the Helicarrier. The had agreed that no one else needed to know about them right now, especially since neither of them really knew for sure what they had. All they knew was that they kinda liked it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so sorry that I keep forgetting to update this, but to make it up to you guys I'll post half the remaining chapters today and the rest tomorrow! How does that sound to you? Too much?

In the four years that she'd been working for SHIELD so far, Natasha felt like she hadn't changed at all. She felt like she'd never be able to break through the barriers that being brought up in the Red Room creates. Natasha Romanoff felt like she was still the cold blooded killer that was Natalia Alianovna Romanova. She felt she would always be the monster that she was trained to be; designed to fight, forced to kill. But in moments like this, where she's looking through the large window of a room in SHIELD medical at her comatose partner, she felt...real. She felt guilty because he took bullets that were meant for her and now the doctors wouldn't tell her if he was even expected to recover. She felt human, knowing that the only person she fully trusted with her life might have taken his own to save hers. She felt wrong because she knew that with all the bad that she's done in the world, she didn't deserve something so right.

Natasha's mind wandered to the hospital fire in Sao Paulo. Countless innocent lives were taken at the expense of one seemingly corrupt man. Children died from the work of her hands. Before Clint saved her, the Red Room was working her harder than anyone else, sending her on missions that should have killed her. She would come back torn up, but be back out in the field sooner than she probably should have. Petrovitch wanted to get all he could out of her before the job would eventually kill her.

The Black Widow wasn't afraid of death, but the person hiding behind the deadly facade was secretly terrified of leaving this earth before she had the chance to do at least one good thing. She wanted to know that she was the reason that someone was happy, even if just for a moment. The point of her life that fell between the hospital fire and Clint saving her had been her lowest. When she came back from her missions and knew she was by herself she would break down. She never cried and barely ever shed a tear, but all of her walls crashed down around her and her mind raced to all the bad things she's done, but she would think about nothing at the same time.

When Clint was sent to kill her, but didn't take the shot for several tense minutes, Natasha decided that this might be her only chance to escape the horrors she lived with every day. She let the smallest piece of her long lost humanity show through for the smallest piece of a moment. She knew he'd see it, even if she didn't know exactly who he was at that time. People like them saw things they sometimes wish they didn't.

At SHIELD, she was still killing, still taking lives from human beings even if it is for the common good. She worked hard to try and scrub away some of the red that her ledger was drowning in. Clint may not know it, but he saved her from adding that last drop of red to her ledger that would silence all the others. He saved her from taking her own life. She felt like she didn't deserve to be alive when the world would be a better place without her in it.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed when Clint's strong grey eyes looked back at her through the glass. In the half a moment that it took her to register that he was awake, she moved towards the door to his room to go in and started to push her way through nurses that were standing there. One of the nurses started to protest when a deep voice was heard from inside the room.

"Let her through, Agent Barton will be fine." The doctor said, and all the nurses reluctantly complied. Natasha quickly crossed the room to stand beside Clint's bed. The two shared a look before looking to the doctor. The doctor spoke mostly to Natasha since Clint had only just woken up. "My name is Doctor Rensfeld and I've been taking care of Agent Barton here. We kept him in a medically induced coma for a few days because we knew if he were awake, he would have stressed his wounds too much." The doctor smiled, trying to keep the mood lighthearted with the two assassins, he knew they both hated when they got hurt. "The two of you will be transferred to the base in New York City where he can recover without running the risk of being jostled around with turbulence or rough seas." Doctor Rensfeld paused a moment to let the information sink in, but Natasha was getting impatient.

"What are the injuries?" She asked with a hard look on her face.

"Well, Agent Barton was shot twice, and one of the bullets left a gash on the left side of his jaw, but that's not the one we've been worrying about." He took a deep breath before continuing. "The other bullet entered his chest cavity just below his collar bone on the left side of his chest. It was imbedded in tissue but the surgeons managed to get it out in a relatively non-invasive surgery. Even so, we are expecting there to be a pretty prominent scar from the bullet. He needs to rest and take care of his injuries so the tissue and muscle can heal properly or he might run the risk of hindering his abilities with a bow."

Clint cringed slightly at the thought of not being able to use the one weapon that he felt most at home with.

"I'll go finalize the paperwork and then you two can be on your way." And with that, Doctor Rensfeld smiled at the moth of them, then exited the room and left the two partners by themselves in the room.

Natasha sat down in the stiff chair that was next to Clint's bed and took one of his calloused hands in both of hers. "I'm sorry."

Clint looked slightly confused. "For what, Natasha, me being in this bed? It's our job to protect each other in the line of duty. This is not your fault."

"You shouldn't have had to take the bullets for me." Natasha said. She paused and her face changed a bit. "It wasn't your job to save me."

Sensing his partner wasn't talking about their last mission anymore, he explained. "I saw something more than a monster in you, something human for a split second. I saw behind the mask of a killer. I saw the person that has come to mean the world to me."

Natasha looked down to the ground and took a deep breath. She began telling him about Sao Paulo. "I set that fire in Sao Paulo, Clint. Innocent lives were taken because of me. My mission was to take out a doctor that was working against the Red Room. He was saving children from being taken by Ivan Petrovitch. I knew that once the man was dead that Petrovitch would come after the children, but they still had a chance to get away. I killed children. I took the chance at a normal life away from them far before their times were supposed to be up."

They were both silent for a moment.

"I don't deserve this." She stated.

"You're going to have to stop talking so cryptically, Nat. I'm not exactly running at my best right now." Clint said, trying to decipher her words.

"A person like me, with a past like mine, doesn't deserve to be happy." She said with finality, like it was the one constant in her life.

Clint shook his head adamantly. "You're wrong. You've been through Hell and back more times than anyone I know and you're still strong. You're here, fighting, proving people wrong everyday. I've done things in my life that I should've been killed for. Neither of us are 'good people', Natasha, but we're good for each other. Our partnership works better than any other team here." He may have just woken up from a coma, but he was able to articulate his point pretty well.

Natasha stood suddenly with her back towards him. She turned her head to the side so he could hear her words. "You know better than anyone else that I wasn't talking about our partnership." She was going cold again, her walls were going up and there was only one person in this world that could break them down with just one word.

"Tasha." Clint said pleadingly, letting his heart bleed into the two syllables.

She turned to look at him with green eyes that were filled with pain and remembrance.

"I know." He said while scooting on the bed so he was against the headboard with enough room for her to join him.

Natasha was hesitant to sit on the bed with him, but he nodded to assure her that he would be okay. She sat down facing him, waiting for him to continue.

"You may not think that you deserve what we have, but people like us need each other. Neither of us would be ones to use terms like boyfriend or girlfriend, or be outwardly affectionate a lot of the time. I don't know exactly what this is," He said as he took her left hand in his right, "but what I do know is that even though we are battered and broken, we are two halves of a whole that were brought together when we needed each other the most."

Natasha's eyes showed less pain as she looked down at the sheets. "мы две половинки целого, которые были привезены вместе, когда мы нуждались друг в друге больше всего." She whispered in Russian, repeating his last statement. In this moment, she felt like if he were all she had to protect her in the deepest pits of Hell, that she would be safe.

"Hey," Clint said as he gently cupped her face with his left hand to bring her eyes back to his and she leaned into it. "We match." He brought their interlocked hands to the spot right over his heart that was covered with a bandage.

Natasha's free hand subconsciously reached to the same spot on her own body, smiling a bit when her fingers felt the scarred skin.

Clint brought his face closer to hers when he saw her smile.

Natasha broke eye contact again to glance at the widow. "Clint?"

"Yeah?" He said as her eyes once again found his.

"You know they'll have to report us if they see anything, right?" She said, referring to the nurses that were standing outside the window of the room.

"I know, but I don't really think I care right now." He stated just before his lips met hers.

Natasha instantly relaxed at the touch, and let her eyes close just as his did the same. They may be hardened killers, but they could still be soft when they wanted to be. The kiss was tender and heartfelt, and both of them poured rivers of emotion into it. It didn't last long, but it was just what they needed in that moment. It was a healing gesture that both of them sorely craved more than they'd willingly admit. They pulled away and Clint gave her a questioning look.

"She's gawking." Natasha answered, knowing that her partner was wondering about the nurse outside.

Clint scoffed and shook his head while smiling.

The two shared a contented look before Natasha cleared her throat and put on a mask once again and stood.

"I'll go pack some things for the both of us and then we're getting out of here before Fury has a chance to ambush us." She stated before quickly leaving the room.

Clint couldn't help but laugh when the nurse failed to hide her shock as Natasha walked past her. He smiled at his partners ability to put walls up so no one could decipher her, and also at his ability to see right through them.

Natasha insisted that she and Clint share a normal SHIELD room so he would be more comfortable and she could be there if anything happened. She knew it was the best option for the both of them, but she still worried about waking him up when she had a nightmare. On the nights when the dreams were especially terrifying, she would quietly slip out of the room and go walk around the city. While Clint preferred being high up to observe the action, Natasha preferred to be on the ground, in the midst of everything going on. The first few times, she just walked around without any clear plan of where she was going, but eventually found herself returning to the same area to relax.

On the nights when her nightmares weren't as striking, or when she noticed Clint was being plagued with horrors of his own, she would wordlessly climb into his bed and curl up against his good side, letting both of them focus on the other's heartbeat. They would eventually relax enough to fall asleep again, with the hope of a dreamless rest.

While Clint was still recovering, Natasha would be sent out on smaller solo assignments since she was still on active duty, but would always return to her partner before the sun rose up to start a new day.

Once Clint was cleared to start training again, they pair took full advantage of it. They would spar to regain the fighting connection that they never actually lost, and would sometimes rope other agents into doing simulations against them. Clint slowly built up hours with his bow and arrow, not wanting to strain the recovering muscles, but was relieved when the doctors told him he was good to go.

The pair returned to the Helicarrier as soon as Clint was cleared once again for active duty. The two of them had grown closer as a whole, or a couple, or whatever you want to call it, but still kept up the appearance of a strictly professional relationship when in the presence of others. They agreed that no matter what happened when Fury called them into a meeting, they would fight to remain partners. Both of them knew that their partnership was just as important to them as it was to the success of SHIELD.

Sure enough, as soon as they walked into their rooms, each received a call from their handler. Coulson told each of them that they were both needed in Fury's office, asap.

Clint walked into the room moments after Natasha had, and they nodded to each other, confirming their plan of action.

"Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff." Fury greeted, nodding in their respective directions.

"Sir." They replied.

"Here at SHIELD, there are regulations against fraternization. It has come to my attention that you two have not been following these regulations. I should split up your partnership because of this insubordination," He took a pause. "but, Agent Coulson has managed to convince me that we could use this new, development to the advantage of your partnership. I expect you to keep things professional when there are other agents around, I don't need other people getting the idea that this sort of thing is okay."

Clint and Natasha remained stoic. "Of course." Clint said, letting Director Fury know that they've already been doing that.

"One more thing, agents," Fury said as he walked behind his desk and leaned against it while maintaining eye contact with them. "do not make me change my mind about this."

They both nodded in silent agreement.

"Now get your asses out of my office, I have a lot of shit to do today." Fury stated, and the two assassins left the office, very relieved.

Once they were out of earshot of Fury, Clint broke the silence. "That went better than expected." He said in a perplexed tone.

Natasha took a moment to let the meeting sink in. "Yeah, it did."

The two continued walking in silence until they were outside of Natasha's room.

"Hey Tash?" Clint asked as Natasha reached for her keys.

"Hmm?" She responded.

"Where would you go on those nights in New York when you had really horrible nightmares?" He asked quietly, generally curious.

Natasha took her attention away from her keys. "I walked around to clear my head."

Clint gave her an exasperated look. "Okay, but where?"

Natasha sighed at her partner's persistance. "Just, around at first, but then I found that walking down 12th street was like an escape."

Clint raised an eyebrow at her, mocking they way she always did the same to him.

She laughed lightly and continued. "It clears my head from the horrors of my past, but it's also just a peaceful escape in the heart of the city that never sleeps." She stated matter-of-factly and turned the handle to walk into her room.

"I had no idea you were so poetic, Tasha." Clint said jokingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him and muttered, "Shut up, Barton." just before slamming the door in his face with a genuine smile on hers.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe just 3 a day? That sound good to everyone?

Clint and Natasha were on assignment in France. They had been in Paris for two weeks already and had no idea when they would be leaving. They were undercover as a couple from a town in northern France since both of them spoke fluent French. Natasha was glad for the need to speak another language, she was starting to get tired of conducting most of her business in English. It was refreshing to slip into the cover of someone from one of her favorite countries. She had spent some time in France before she worked for SHEILD and has since been able to think in French, adding to the list that already included Russian, English, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Arabic, and Czech. She was able to speak many other languages, but had no dire need to be able to think in them on command.

Clint had been to Paris once before on a short assignment, but was happy to be able to actually see more of the city this time. He and Natasha both had to do extensive research on the small town they were supposed to be from. They had to come up with a backstory for themselves and had taken an entire week to do so. They thought up where they were born, where they went to school, how they met, and how they came to live in that town. The only time they weren't posing as their covers was when they knew they were completely alone in their apartment, with the blinds closed of course.

The two were currently at a dinner party they had been invited to by an insanely wealthy couple they were pretending to be friends with, Faye and Montaine Bellaire. The couple was known to be good friends the leader of the organization that Clint and Natasha were keeping close tabs on. SHEILD intelligence had suggested that the man would be attending this party so Clint and Natasha were told to be there. Their task for tonight was not to kill him, but get close enough to determine his means of business based on his body language when subconsciously pressed about it. Natasha would do most of the psychological profiling, while Clint would read her predetermined signals and later relay the information to Coulson, who would decide the next plan of action for the team. It was all a pretty big operation for not having to take someone down.

"Thank you so much for inviting us, we haven't been doing much except unpacking these past two weeks." Clint said to Montaine while Faye and another man walked towards the table.

"Corentin, Nicolette," Faye said, addressing Clint and Natasha, "May I introduce Séraphin Trivette. He's a good friend of ours." She turned to look at the other man. "Séraphin, this is Corentin and Nicolette Belmort, they recently moved here from Saint-Leu, Amiens."

"It's nice to meet you both." Trivette said to Clint and Natasha as he shook their hands before sitting down at their table. Natasha took note of the confidence that was rolling off him in waves. "Tell me, what made you want to move from a quiet town to Paris?" Séraphin continued.

"I was born just outside the city," Natasha started, "and when Corentin and I visited last summer he fell in love with it here. You seem to be somewhat of a city boy yourself, did you grow up here?" Natasha asked, turning the conversation towards Trivette.

He let out a small chuckle at her observation. "Yes I'm Parisian, born and raised!" He said while gesturing around himself in a way Natasha had only seen done in movies with egotistical kings.

Montaine saw someone across the room that he wanted to go speak with so he quietly excused himself from the table, while Faye stayed put.

"Nicolette, maybe Séraphin can show you around sometime? He was of great help when I first moved here." Faye said, trying to keep herself an integral part of the conversation.

Trivette seemed more than enthused at the prospect of showing Natasha around one of the most romantic cities in the world.

"Oh that would be lovely!" Natasha said, and turned to Clint. "You must come too, of course. You need to see everything the city has to offer from the local's point of view." She continued as she nonchalantly flipped her hair over her left shoulder and looking him dead in the eye, their sign for having found their target.

"I would love to tag along, if it's not to much to ask, Séraphin." Clint replied, making sure to start slowly pushing the man's buttons.

Trivette looked flustered for a moment but his face was quickly taken over by a sly smile, accepting the unspoken challenge. "It won't be a problem, Corentin, I would hate for you to miss out on seeing the city. Any time you two are free, so am I."

Natasha noticed the moment where the man let through an emotion he did not wish for them to see, and she realized that he would be easier to break than she had previously thought. She steeled her face into her cover and started her subconscious interrogation. She's done interrogations before, but never really in front of other people, and definitely not in a public place. She decided it was best to play the ignorant female, as much as she hated doing that, and so she kept close to Clint but would always seem more interested in what their target was saying. She wanted him to feel like he was being put up to a challenge so he would let his guard down.

"What kind of job do you have that would allow you to have all the free time you need?" Natasha started, seemingly genuinely curious.

Trivette cleared his throat and looked down uncomfortably, showing that he had to come up with his response on the spot. "I'm a, consultant." He said, then flashed a wide smile after looking back up and meeting Natasha's eyes.

Natasha tapped a finger on Clint's leg where she purposely left her hand, letting him know that Trivette was lying. She gave the man a flirtatiously questioning look and continued. "That's kind of vague don't you think?"

"Yes, well, it would take a while to explain everything my company does for the government." He said, and immediately looked ashamed that he had let that small bit of information slip, but Natasha was not going to let him shut down. She drew a circle on Clint's leg telling him that his statement was true.

Natasha opened her eyes wide with surprise. "Corentin here works for the mayors office!"

"Ah, what is your position, Corentin?" Séraphin asked, blatantly sizing him up.

Clint looked back at the man while pretending to be bored withe such trivial conversation. "Finances."

Natasha turned to Clint and gently hit his arm with a bewildered smile on her face. "Don't make it sound so boring, dear," She then turned to Trivette, "what he's not telling you is that he's mathematical genius, and can spot an inconsistency from a mile away. He doesn't like to tell people that he likes numbers because he thinks it makes him sound boring. I personally find it fascinating that his mind can pinpoint something so accurately from a distance." She turned back to Clint and looked him dead in the eye as she said the last part, partly to make Trivette try harder to win her affections, and to let Clint know that it was actually true.

Trivette was starting to look uneasy and Natasha knew he was doing something with money from the government that he obviously wasn't supposed to be doing. He had looked down at the table as soon as Natasha broke eye contact, but made no move to get up, because he thought that would make him look suspicious.

"Anyway Séraphin," Natasha said, changing the subject, "I'm excited for you to show us around the city. Is tomorrow evening okay?"

Trivette seemed happy with the direction that the conversation had gone. He flashed another sly smile towards Natasha, who seemed to be oblivious of his dark intentions for her when he got her away from the man she seemed so attached to. "Anything for you, Nicolette."

Natasha let out a small giggle and looked down at the table for a second before returning her eyes to Trivette's and smiling. "That's so nice of you, I wish there were more men out there like you."

"But then it wouldn't be such a pleasure to come across a man like me if they were around every corner." He retorted, adding a wink at the end just to agitate Clint a bit.

Clint just scoffed at the interaction between the two.

Having set a date and time for the three to meet up, Natasha and Clint let the conversation flow whichever way it may, or whichever way Faye wanted it to go. When it started to get late, Clint and Natasha politely excused themselves, but not before Natasha turned to Trivette one last time and said, "Don't forget, tomorrow at six thirty outside the town hall." She then turned and walked away with Clint, and he wrapped his arm protectively around her waist, playing with their target again.

Once the two were back in the apartment and had checked to make sure nothing was tampered with while they were gone, they went through the information gathered that night and wrote it all down to be sent to Coulson.

"Nice jab with the finances there, Hawkeye." Natasha said to Clint before they got into paperwork mode.

"Thanks, but you're the one with him wrapped around your pretty little finger." He replied as he quickly picked up one of her hands, kissed it, and put it back down just as quickly.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but didn't say anything about it. Clint was happy she was finally letting him touch her like that without punching him for it.

The two then meticulously went through the night, and sent the information out to their handler. Coulson responded less than an hour later saying that they needed to find a way for their target to open up without knowing what hit him, or who. He also said that SHIELD was now looking into the financial reports of the mayor's office to see if he could find anything out of the ordinary, but one of them would still have to get into town hall to get all the information they needed.

"I've got a plan." Was all Natasha said before she started heading off to shower and go to sleep.

"You wanna explain it to me?" Clint asked from where he still sat.

"In the morning."

Clint couldn't help but think that she was the most amazing and driven person he has ever met. He never wanted to partners with anyone else after this, she spoiled him for the rest of the world.

That night, Clint and Natasha slept in the same bed, as usual, but Clint couldn't fall asleep as easily as he normally could, which wasn't very well anyway. Natasha was a light sleeper and she awoke every time he moved. She thought that maybe it was nightmares again, and was probably right, so she turned to face him, said "Come here," let them get wrapped up in each other, and fell asleep. This time Clint fell asleep with her.

Clint and Natasha, or Corentin and Nicolette rather, were standing outside the town hall at exactly 6:15 pm.

"Do whatever you need to do to get into the records office and pull all the files dealing with money that fall within the last two years. I'll distract Trivette and then we'll catch him off guard. Call me once you're done and I'll tell you where we are." Natasha said quietly in English, all while making it look flirtatious to everyone around them.

"Got it." Clint said. "I won't be long, my love." He said a bit louder as he leaned down to kiss her briefly but passionately before turning and walking into the building like he belonged there.

A few minutes later, Séraphin Trivette showed up and looked too happy at the fact that he didn't see Clint there with Natasha. "Where's Corentin?"

"He has to work a little later than he expected, but he told me that we can start without him." She responded while giving him a warm smile.

"Well then, let us begin." Trivette said as he motioned in the direction they would be going in to start the tour.

He took them around the most romantic parts of the city that he could before Clint would show up. Clint had called and said he was on his way so she needed to break Trivette quick. He also told her exactly what Trivette was doing with the money he stole from the government.

While they waited for Clint to arrive, Natasha would innocently ask about when something was built, what something meant to the locals, or even what made him bring her to these types of places.

To the last question, Trivette replied, "It's not a secret that I find you attractive, but I know that's not really what you want to hear. I know you're happily married and I'm happy for you and Corentin, but I can't help wanting you to myself. I wanted to show you all these places because I know they're something that I can give you that he can't. He can't give you this city that you love so much, and maybe I can't either, but I can get a lot closer than someone from up north." He glanced down at the street, trying to appear non-threatening, even though Natasha knew he wasn't the innocent man he claimed to be. "I just wanted you to know that."

Natasha had made sure they were in a secluded place because he wasn't going to go down without a fight. The sun had set by now and they were standing next to an old abandoned building on the outskirts of town. No one else would get hurt here, she made damn sure of that.

Natasha noticed a familiar figure make his way to the dimly lit street behind their target.

"I do know those things, Séraphin," She started, and he looked at her. She suddenly hardened her face at his body that was weakened by petty emotions. "but what I really want to know is why you're stealing money from the mayor to build missiles."

Trivette suddenly changed from the love-struck puppy he had been just a moment ago into the psychopathic weapons dealer that Natasha now knew him to be. "You bitch!" He screamed at her and lunged for an attack. He managed to get a pretty good swipe at her arm and his knife cut into her flesh.

Clint grabbed his arms from behind and restrained him for the time being. "Woah there, cowboy. None of that out here." He said as he started to walk them towards the abandoned building that Natasha motioned towards.

"Who the fuck are you two?!" Trivette screamed once they were inside.

"That's not important." Natasha stated while Clint tied Trivette to a chair so he couldn't get out. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them. Don't bother lying to me, because I'll know." She continued, as she leaned down to Trivette's eye level.

Trivette turned to his right and spat on the floor in a churlish manner.

Natasha shook her head at him, but turned to Clint. "Would you ever be that rude to a lady, Hawkeye?"

Trivette stilled.

"Certainly not to a lady like you, Black Widow." Clint responded, instantly catching on to her flow.

"Fuck." Trivette muttered underneath his breath.

Natasha pretended to just notice their target's rigid stance. "I take it you've heard of us then, Séraphin?" Natasha asked, adopting an innocent tone once again.

Trivette didn't respond, but both Clint and Natasha already knew the answer to her question.

"I'd imagine that you have people that will be looking for you soon, so we'll just do this the fast way." Natasha started as she sat on Trivette's lap, one leg on each side and wrapped her arms around his neck. She knew that would be enough to get him flustered, he had just professed his love to her after all. "Who are you building the missiles for?" She said in her innocent voice again. Trivette was never going to get a handle on himself.

"I don't know." He responded after swallowed hard.

"Lie." Natasha said.

"Iran." He said, swallowing again.

"Lie." Natasha said once more and suddenly got off his lap to stand behind him. She let her hands move over his shoulders and land on his neck so she could feel for his tell. She moved one of her hands to his hair just to mess him up more.

She felt him swallow yet again before he answered. "America."

"Lie." Natasha gripped his hair tight and pulled his head back so both her and Clint were in his line of sight. This time though, it was Clint who spoke.

"As much as I enjoy watching this game, it's getting a little old, Trivette."

Natasha let go of his hair and began to rub the spot she just injured, much like a mother would do to an injured child. She leaned down so her mouth was right next to his ear and she felt him shiver at the feeling of her breath. "Séraphin, please tell me." She said as she lazily rubbed circles behind his other ear.

He couldn't hold it in any longer and the words came tumbling out. "Al-Qaeda, my organization sells to them."

"And what's your organization?" Natasha said as she carried forward the conversation and lingered by the man's face.

"It's - uh - AZF." He finally let out.

Natasha pulled back and walked around Trivette to face him again as Clint came up beside her. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" She asked.

Trivette glanced at one of the windows and smiled darkly. "It will be much harder for you to get out of here alive."

"Grenade!" Clint yelled as soon as he saw it fly through the window. He grabbed Natasha's hand and they ran towards the front of the building, where he didn't see any grenades.

Clint was just outside the door frame and Natasha was just inside the doorframe with the entire building caught on fire, along with some of Natasha.

Luckily, Natasha had decided to wear her suit under her jacket and loose fitting jeans, so her skin was fine, except for the cut. There was, however, a large part of her long fiery locks that was incinerated. She stripped herself of the burning cloth and put out the flames in her hair that were threatening to make their way to her scalp and then gave Clint the okay to run.

They made it back to the apartment and Clint looked at Natasha with a look that contained both sadness and pride.

"What?" Natasha asked him after a few moments.

"Only you would be paranoid enough to wear a kevlar suit under clothing."

"And?" She prodded.

Clint reached up and gently took Natasha's hair in his hands. "I'm gonna miss it."

"I think my arm needs tending to first, Barton." Natasha said, using his last name to get his attention. She didn't know when she had to start using his last name instead of his first to get his attention, but it had happened nonetheless.

Clint helped her free her left arm from her suit by unzipping it a bit, and thought that it was unfortunate that he was helping her undress because she got hurt. When he looked at the wound however, his expression changed.

"Tash, this still looks really fresh." He stated, with worry in his eyes.

"It did only happen an hour ago, normal people don't heal that quickly."

"Yeah, normal people don't, but you heal faster..." He said, thinking that it was odd that he had to remind his partner of that fact.

Natasha shook her head adamantly. "Not anymore. Not since what happened to my back and leg in Italy. I've been healing more and more like a normal person would ever since." She seemed somewhat defeated by having to admit such a thing to her partner.

Clint just nodded in acceptance and began to clean the cut and put a clean bandage on it. Natasha looked at him, slightly puzzled.

"What?" Clint said.

"I'm just not used to people being okay with it when I tell them something's wrong." She told him.

"Well get used to it Tasha, because I'll never push you away just because something didn't go as planned." He responded, looking her dead in the eye. "Now, you may want to do something about this haircut that Trivette's bombs gave you. I'll contact Coulson and tell him about the information and what happened."

Natasha laughed lightly and Clint gave her a confused look.

"It takes my hair getting burned for you to finally step up to the plate with paperwork?" She said, smiling. They stared at each other for a moment before she grabbed some scissors and walked into the bathroom and shut the door. She's had to do her own hair her entire life, and back in the Red Room, it had to change often.

Clint was just finishing up the paperwork and hit send on the email when he heard the shower turn off, and saw Natasha walk out a minute later. She had on his old Pink Floyd t-shirt and was running a brush through her red curls that now fell right below her chin. She noticed that Clint was gawking, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Something wrong?"

He cleared his throat and began. "No, it's perfect. You're perfect." He wrapped her up in his strong arms and brought his lips to hers to kiss her and let her know all the things he couldn't say with words. They let themselves get lost in each other and forget the fact that they were almost blown up today for as long as they could, but they both needed to breathe sooner that they had wanted to let go.

"Just one question." Clint said.

"What's that?" Natasha said as she craned her neck up to look at him.

"Where'd you get my favorite shirt?"

Natasha smiled slyly while looking up at him through her lashes. "I stole it."

Clint raised his eyebrows at her blatant confession. "Stealing is punishable by law, you know."

"You going to turn me in?" Natasha said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Clint held her tighter and brought their faces centimeters apart. "Nope." He kissed her quickly. "Just gonna turn you on." His face pulled into that shit-eating grin of his before capturing her lips in a mind numbing kiss once again.


	14. Chapter 14

Natasha Romanoff always appeared cold-hearted and hard as she walked through the hallways of SHEILD's helicarrier, and today was no exception, except for the fact that she seemed even more intense, if that was even possible. She was steeling herself for her next solo assignment. Only she, Coulson, and Fury knew why.

Clint was oblivious at the moment, as he was in his own world in the shooting range two floors down. He had been told that Natasha was going on a mission soon, but Coulson hadn't told him where, he said that Clint would have to ask her himself. He was being sent to the base in D.C. in three days, to keep watch on this thing called the Tesseract. He really hated surveillance missions, but apparently he was needed for his eyesight.

Natasha knew exactly where Clint would be and headed down there as soon as her briefing was over. She threw open the doors of the shooting range to let Clint know that she needed to talk to him.

"What's up Tasha?" Clint asked without turning around to see who was there.

"I need to talk to you." She said, and then promptly walked out back to the hallway.

Clint quickly put away his gear and ran to catch up with her. He noticed her cold demeanor and soon enough, he realized what this was about.

"Является ли это о вашей миссии, Natasha?" (Is this about your mission?) He asked in Russian, knowing that she didn't really want others to hear the details as they stalked through the halls of the helicarrier.

"да." (Yes.) She answered curtly. She didn't have the heart to look at him right now.

"Куда ты идешь?" (Where are you going?) He asked simply.

Natasha shook her head. She couldn't find her voice to tell him. She'd been there before, but never without him. This was her first solo mission there in five years.

They kept walking through the crowded hallways and both wished that there hadn't been so many agents here right then.

"Natasha, Вы тот, кто хотел говорить об этом, пожалуйста, скажите мне." (You're the one who wanted to talk about this, please tell me.) Clint nearly pleaded.

All Natasha could do was stop walking and take a deep breath. She seemed like she was about to talk when she closed her mouth and shook her head again. She resumed walking and started to explain some background about her mission. "Я должен вынуть голову из ячейки мафии." (I have to take out the head of a mafia cell.)

"где?" (Where?) Clint asked again.

Natasha just continued to explain her mission softly so no one else could hear her but Clint. "Я должен заставить себя поймал их, дать им почувствовать, что они имеют верх." (I have to let myself get caught by them, make them feel like they have the upper hand.) Her eyes were dark and withdrawn, Clint knew Natasha never liked playing the dumb spy who gets caught, but she's done it before and never acted like this.

Clint was starting to get uncharacteristically impatient with his partner. "Natasha, скажи мне, где." (Tell me where.)

Natasha stopped walking again and turned away from Clint. "Barton." She warned.

Clint was starting to worry, but knew he wouldn't get an answer out of his partner when she was acting like this unless he made her angry. 'Here goes nothing.' He thought. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, shoving her up against a wall to get her full attention, and got the attention of everyone around them as well, but he didn't really care right now.

"Where!" He loudly growled at her in English.

Something like fire flashed in Natasha's eyes before she yelled back at him. "Russia!" She spat. She then pushed him off of her and nearly ran down the hallway away from Clint and countless other stunned agents.

"Fuck." Clint grumbled under his breath.

Suddenly, a hand clapped down on Clint's shoulder. "She's a handful, dude, I don't know how you do it." A familiar voice said from behind.

Clint decided that he would rather elbow the man in the chest than comment on the remark, so that's exactly what he did. Agent Hobbes went tumbling to the ground and Clint when running after his partner.

"Natasha!" He called out, making her slow down a bit. He caught up to her seconds later. "Tasha, nececitas hablar sobre esto." (You need to talk about this.) he almost whispered in Spanish, placing a hand on her arm and starting to rub it comfortingly

Natasha roughly grabbed his hand and pulled it off her arm, letting her hand linger on his for a split second longer than absolutely necessary. "No aquí. Prefiero no hablar de la posibilidad muy real de esta misión hacia sur cerca de otros personas." (Not here. I'd prefer not to talk about the very real possibility of this mission going south around other people.) She responded before they both calmly walked away from the growing crowd.

Agent Hobbes was still on the ground, stunned as he watched the two master assassins communicate. "So I guess that's how he does it." He said as he was helped up by Agent Guiteras.

"They are certainly, different, from other teams here." She responded as she and all the other agents on the floor watched Clint and Natasha walk away. She finally had enough of trained professionals gawking at the two retreating agents. She turned to face most of the people in the hallway and addressed them in her ever-present thick Spanish accent, "I wouldn't continue to stare at them for too much longer if I were you."

There were a few throats that were cleared as agents tried to act innocent, and the crowd quickly dispersed.

Agent Hobbes turned to Agent Guiteras as they walked the same way as Clint and Natasha. "Were you close enough to hear what they said in Spanish?" He asked rather loudly.

Agent Guiteras sighed, and then answered. "Yes, but I think Agent Romanoff would rather slit everyone's throat than have others know what she said."

Clint and Natasha were still walking away but could still hear what the other two familiar agents were saying.

"Hobbes is too nosy for his own good." Clint said with a straight face.

Natasha glanced back at Agent Guiteras, who nodded and smiled slightly. Natasha nodded back before turning back around to let Agent Guiteras know that she was grateful for her help with the situation.

"Yeah, he is, but as much as I used to hate Guiteras, she seems to have my back." Natasha said seriously, but still wondered why the agent she clashed with so much not too long ago chose to stand up for her.

"I thought you didn't like it when people tried to stand up for you?" Clint asked, recalling the way she was always hard-headed when he tried to do something like that for her before they started whatever it was their relationship could be defined as.

Natasha looked down for a moment as they kept walking. "I've got a lot on my mind right now."

The two continued to walk to Clint's room, where Clint was surprised to find Coulson waiting.

"Clint, Natasha." Coulson greeted, and Clint realized just how serious this was when their handler called both of them by their first names.

The three stepped inside and Coulson locked the door behind them. Clint and Natasha sat on his bed while Coulson took the chair, the arrangement was much like the time that Coulson was assigned to make sure the two assassins wouldn't kill each other.

"Phil," Natasha said calmly, much to the surprise of Clint. She never called Coulson by his first name. "Clint and I need to be able to contact each other while we're away from each other."

Coulson nodded. "I know that, and I've already managed to convince Director Fury of that. Seems like I have to do that a lot lately." He added, giving the two a slightly sly look as he referred to how he convinced Fury to ignore the relationship that developed between the two.

Clint still looked a little outraged at the thought of Natasha having to go back to Russia by herself. "Natasha said that she has to get herself caught by the Russian mafia?" He addressed Coulson.

Coulson remained calm as he answered. "Yes. We need them to think that they've got her for good. It'll make them let their guard down."

Clint turned to Natasha, who was sitting tensely. "This isn't just about the mafia, or else you wouldn't have reacted like that."

Natasha swallowed before meeting his eyes. "They have know ties to the Red Room."

Clint asked a question that he rarely ever wanted the answer to. "What's your success rate?"

Natasha kept eye contact with him as she answered. "47%."

"You know you can say no to missions, right? Why'd you take this one, Natasha?" Clint asked heatedly. He was both angry at his partner, and worried about her at the same time.

"The success rate for other agents is lower." She responded.

"How low?" Clint asked her.

When Natasha didn't respond, Coulson answered the looming question. "Less than 10%."

Clint kept his attention on Natasha. "God, Tasha, If your success rate is so low, why are you being sent in alone? Why am I not going in as backup?"

"SHEILD can't afford to lose both of us, Clint." Natasha said in a low tone.

Clint understood the reasoning behind the solo mission, but he still didn't like it. He and Natasha were sitting so close that their sides were nearly touching, and he reached to grab one of her hands that was balled up in a fist and unravelled her fingers gently.

"Я не думаю, что я могу позволить себе потерять вас." (I don't think I can afford to lose you.) Clint whispered to her as their fingers intertwined.

Hearing a sentence with so much meaning behind in her native language, and the language of the country she was being sent to made Natasha unravel. She let out a short, shaky breath and buried her face in Clint's shoulder, so Coulson couldn't see her. She wasn't crying and she trusted him not to judge her, but she still hated to look vulnerable around anyone. She and Coulson had gotten over whatever hostility that had been there when she first arrived at SHEILD and now she liked him as a friend, and would even talk to him when even when it wasn't necessary, which is saying a lot for her.

The three agents sat in silence as Clint squeezed Natasha's hand and let his other hand run through her short red locks. Coulson silently observed the two as he wrote down another request for Fury.

A few more moments passed before Natasha lifted her head and met Clint's steady gaze before turning back to Coulson and started to apologize, trying to get herself together. "Sorry, that was unprofessional-"

"No need to apologize, Natasha." Coulson said with a smile on his face. He knew that even the strongest people need moments to let down a few of their walls. He was just glad that Natasha was comfortable enough to do so around him. Even thought he was reluctant to be the handler for Strike Team Delta in the past, he now knew that the two broken people in front of him were two of his favorite people in the world.

"Now," Coulson continued, "I am going to make one last request to Fury about your missions if you agree to it. I want to make absolutely sure that if something happens on either of your missions, the other one of you will be called immediately, no questions asked."

Clint and Natasha shared a quick glance of relief and then turned back to Coulson and nodded.

"Alright then. Clint, you know your mission, correct?" Coulson said.

"Yessir." Clint said with a small smile, thankful for the subject change.

Coulson smirked at the two as he remembered how Clint acted when he first arrived at SHEILD. "And try not to be too much of an asshole when you get to D.C., Fury would be, well, furious."

The three of them all chuckled a bit, and the lighthearted conversation kept up for a little over an hour. They talked about how the food on the helicarrier was shit, but how none of them could cook even if their lived depended on it. Coulson kept sneakily poking fun at how the two assassins in front of him were attached at the hip, and apparently the hand tonight. Clint and Natasha both gave him stern looks after those comments, but they were both glad that they were able to have a civil conversation with their handler. Not everyone was that lucky.

As the night wound down and Coulson needed to return to his office, the three stood up to say goodnight. Clint clapped Coulson on the back and caused him to stumble forward a bit, but just laughed at the archer. What Natasha did next surprised him. She seemed a little hesitant at first, but then proceeded to wrap her arms around Coulson. After a few seconds, he returned the hug, as weird as he thought it was.

"Thank you." Natasha said quietly before stepping back to where Clint stood.

Clint placed a strong arm around Natasha's shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She gave him a look feigning confusion, but then wrapped her arm around his waist.

Every time Coulson saw them like this, it made it harder to agree to send them on dangerous missions, but they all knew that being compromised wasn't an option. They were professional in the field, and what they did outside the field could never follow them when they were working.

"I'll make sure no one bothers you while you're prepping for your missions. Now get some rest, you two, we can't have tired assassins running around." Coulson said before smiling and leaving the two alone.

Clint and Natasha were grateful to have such an amazing handler. If anyone else had been in charge of their team, they would have been broken up by now because anyone else would have thought they were compromised, but Phil Coulson knew better than to think that SHEILD's top agents would do something so irresponsible. He trusted them, and they trusted him. What they had was irreplaceable.

"He's a good guy." Natasha stated, turning to face Clint.

"He's the best." He responded before pulling her into a kiss that melted away all the fear that they had at that moment.

The kiss was slow, and conveyed unspoken words and truths that could never be put into words. Natasha didn't believe in love, and Clint didn't really either, but whatever this was, was pretty damn close.


	15. Chapter 15

RUSSIA:

Natasha sat tied to a chair, having let herself get caught, just like she needed to to. She was reverse interrogating Georgi Luchkov, a military general involved with the Russian mob, and possibly the Red Room.

SMACK!

Natasha's head whipped to the side after one of the henchmen violently slapped her across the face. It hurt, but she wouldn't let it show.

Luchkov walked up to her and begins speaking in Russian. "This is not how I wanted the evening to go."

"I know how you wanted this evening to go. Trust me, this is better." Natasha responded matter-of-factly, in the same language.

Luchkov glanced to the corner where the objects with which he was bribed sat. Natasha had brought them to gain access directly to the general. "I'd like to know to why they sent you to carry out a carrier, a stained glass and other random items." He stated.

Before Natasha had time to respond, one of the other men tipped her chair back dangerously over the edge of the hole in the floor. Her instincts kicked in and her foot moved to try and reach solid ground, but to no avail. He set her back down after a few moments and she returned her focus to Luchkov.

"I thought General Soholob was in charge of the export business." She lied. She had Luchkov right where she wanted him.

"Soholob? You're reputation is quite the progression. The infamous Black Widow. Nothing but a pretty face." He told her. He thought she knew nothing about his operation.

Natasha gave him a sly but powerful look. "You really think I'm pretty?"

Luchkov ignored her snarky comment and decided to try and scare her. He walked over to a table filled with tools as one of the other men held open her mouth. "We do not need the Lermontov to transfer the tanks. Tell him, well..." He picked up a wrench, presumably threatening to remove Natasha's teeth. "You may have to write it down." He finished in heavily accented English.

Before Luchkov had the chance to make a move, one of the man's cell phone rang. He handed it to Luchkov, who seemed confused at what the other person was saying. After a few moments, he handed the phone to Natasha.

"We need you to come in." Said the person on the other line. Natasha immediately recognized it to be Coulson. What the hell does he want? She thought

"Are you kidding? I'm working!" She said. The men in the room awkwardly looked around, waiting for her to finish the call.

"This takes precedence." Coulson said in his ever professional manner.

"I'm in the middle of an interrogation and this moron is giving me everything." Natasha said to Coulson while simultaneously pushing her targets buttons.

Luchkov looked around, confused. "I don't, give everything."

Natasha shot him a disbelieving look and raised her eyebrow. "Look, you can't pull me out of this right now." She said as she continued her conversation on the phone.

"Tasha-" Coulson started.

Natasha now gave her full attention to her handler. He never called her by her first name unless something was wrong, and he most certainly never called her by one of Clint's nicknames for her.

"-Barton's been compromised." He finished.

Natasha's face went blank as her worst fear came true. She steeled herself for what may lay ahead, but first she needed to get herself out of Russia. "Let me put you on hold."

She proceeded to knock down Luchkov and stand up. The thugs weren't smart enough to tie her legs to the chair for some reason, so she used that to her advantage. Using every bit of anger towards whomever compromised her partner, she kicked, flipped, and eventually broke free of the chair by landing on an unconscious man. She took down the three men in 30 seconds flat.

UNKOWN LOCATION:

Agent Barton was now under the complete control of Loki and his scepter. He had managed to rally up countless people from organizations that hated SHEILD. Though Agent Barton was doing anything and everything he was instructed to do, Clint was still in there. That part of him couldn't really see what was doing, how many people he killed, but he was there and this was a type of pain that he had never experienced before, and didn't wish to ever experience again.

The part of him that was being controlled still had access to all the memories he possessed, and told Loki everything regarding SHEILD, the tesseract, and Natasha. Loki knew that there had to be something to use against his enemies, and knowing everything about the world's best spy was definitely that something.

Agent Barton spent his time coming up with plans to take down the Helicarrier. He devised a way to steal a SHEILD plane, some gear, and weapons. He was behind the 'mission' to get the Iridium needed to stabilize the portal. All this time, Agent Barton was doing Loki's dirty work, while Clint was spending his time in a place he could only explain as his own personal Hell. Images of all the things he's done wrong in his life, all the people he killed before Loki took over, and all the things that he could do that would hurt Natasha. He was shoved to the back of his own mind, left to his own devices with nothing to distract him from the thoughts that flooded every second of every day.

HELICARRIER:

Loki was pacing back and forth in the cell that was made for the Hulk, when he suddenly noticed that he wasn't alone.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me." He said without even turning around. He knew who it would be, Agent Barton told him that Fury would send his best interrogator, Natasha.

"But you figured I'd come." Natasha responded, noticing that Loki hadn't turned around, but seemed sure of who was there.

Loki finally turned around to address her. "After...after whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you'd appear as a friend, as a balm, and I would cooperate." He said in a mocking tone. He wasn't about to give everything up to a mere mortal.

Natasha got straight to the point. "I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton."

Loki looked at her with a smile. "I'd say I've expanded his mind."

Natasha stepped forwards with her ever-present sway to get closer to the god. "And once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?" She knew that getting Loki to think that she was there only for information about Clint would make it easier for her to manipulate him into telling her his plan. She had done this to many people in the past but she has to admit, she was a little uneasy about trying to manipulate a god who's power it was to manipulate others.

Loki looked at her with smile that made her stomach churn. "Ah, is this love, Agent Romanoff?"

The question through her for a loop internally, but tried her best to not let it show. She swallowed back her emotions quickly and then answered, blinking more than she would have liked to admit. "Love is for children, I owe him a debt."

Loki seemed appeased at her answer, for the moment at least. He told her to tell him about the debt, and she did. She explained how she was on SHEILD's hit list, and how Agent Barton was sent to kill her, but made a different call.

Loki was focused on getting her to tell him about why she bargained for one man, when her entire world was at stake, not knowing that she was analyzing his every move for when she would strike.

"Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that, I'm Russian...or I was." She responded.

"And what are you now?" Loki prodded.

Natasha took a breath and rose up from her chair. She answered him with yet another well rehearsed line that she has told countless other people in her lifetime. "It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out." Hoping to whatever God that existed that Loki would take the bait and run with it, she put up more walls, and crossed her arms, looking at him with a straight face.

Loki looked back at her with a knowing look. "Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakov's daughter?"

Natasha's face remained calm, but something in her eyes changed.

Loki saw right through her facade and continued his rant. "Sao Paulo. The hospital fire. Barton told me everything." He rose menacingly. "Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself is going to change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer! Pathetic!" He continued walking closer to where Natasha stood, just outside his cell.

Natasha's face got more and more contorted with uncontrollable emotions, given some of them were fake, but some of them were real. The ones in her eyes gave away how she really felt while she stood in the shadow of Loki as he tore her past apart.

"You lie and kill, in the service of liars and killers." Loki continued. "You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you, and they will never go away." He noticed how focused Natasha was on his words, so he slammed his fist against the glass to irk her even further. Suddenly, his voice grew lower, almost to a growl as he spoke again. "I won't touch Barton, not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his skull!"

Natasha couldn't bare to look Loki in the eyes as he explained everything he was going to make Clint do to her. She turned to face away from him, head down, acting and displaying her emotions at a heightened level.

"This is my bargain you mewling quim." Loki finished.

Natasha waited a few moments, trying to control her breathing. "Your a monster." She finally rasped.

Loki let out a devious chuckle. "Oh no, you brought the monster."

Natasha's head snapped up as she came to the realization. She quickly turned around, completely in control of herself. "So, Banner, that's your play?" She stated more than asked.

Loki looked at her incredulously, he couldn't believe what she just said. She can't have figured it out. He thought. "What?" Was all he managed to say.

Natasha started to walk away, still subconsciously amazed that she successfully interrogated a god, and alerted Fury to Loki's plan. Just before leaving the room, she tuned back to Loki with a small smile and a glint of dominance in her eyes, "Thank you, for your cooperation."

A short while later, after Natasha had regained her strength from being thrown aside by the Hulk, whom she is terrified of by the way, she and Clint were engaged in perhaps the most important fight of their lives. She knew that Clint was under the control of Loki, and wasn't holding back. They both knew each others weakest points, and weren't hesitating to go after them.

At one point, they were locked in a stalemate, each of them had a knife at the other's throat, though Natasha desperately didn't want to have to use hers. Clint reached back with his free hand and pulled her hair, a low level move for such an advanced fighter. As his knife threatened to slit her throat, Natasha made the snap decision to bite his arm, hard.

He let go and she flipped over his arm, knocking him off balance before shoving him to the side. His head slammed into the railing and he struggled to get up. He eventually settled for kneeling and looked up at Natasha. He could feel the control starting to wear off, but only slightly.

Natasha saw the eerily iridescent blue in his eyes stutter for a second.

With all of his actually self that he could muster, Clint chose to say one word, the one words he knew would get through. "Tasha?" He breathed.

Natasha heard the pain that was pouring out of those two syllables. She broke for a second after he showed his real self through the haze of the tesseract. Even so, she now knew what she had to do to break him free of his mental prison.

Her fist connected with the side of his face so hard he was instantly knocked out. She leaned up against the railing, breathing hard and trying to get herself together while she waited for a medical team to come pick up her unconscious partner.

When Natasha was finally allowed to go into Clint's recovery room for when he woke up, she knew she would have to be on her toes. She could say soothing words, just not say them soothingly, because if he were still under Loki's control, he would see the emotion and go after her for it. She couldn't be herself until she was positive he was the Clint she knew so well.

Clint was starting to wake up, and there was still a haze in his mind. All the colors were saturated and he felt like screaming. He heard Natasha's voice, and that helped ground him from the tesseract. He heard something different in her voice though, something hard, cold. He pushed out whatever was left of the insanity and looked at her, finally looked at her with his stormy gray eyes. As soon as he locked eyes with Natasha, he felt her relax from across the room. He saw her change back into the Natasha that had saved his life.

"I don't understand," said Clint, "Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and put something else in? Do you know what it's like to be unmade?" He didn't look into Natasha's eyes until the last question.

She looked back at him with pain in her eyes. "You know that I do." She said simply.

Clint was still working on getting his breath back when he asked, "Why am I back, how'd you get him out?"

"Cognitive recalibration." Natasha stated as she walked to sit down on Clint's bed and undo his restraints. "I hit you really hard in the head." She flashed a quick smile towards him, the smile he knew was only for him.

Clint looked at her like a small child, "Thanks."

Natasha smiled back at him for being himself again.

"Tasha," Clint started as she was working on his restraints. "How many agents-"

Natasha's head snapped up. "Don't, don't do that to yourself, Clint. This was Loki. This is monsters, and magic, and nothing we were ever trained for."

Clint accepted that answer for now. "Loki, he get away?"

"Yeah." Natasha whispered, knowing it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. She arched an eyebrow and asked, "Don't suppose you know where?"

Clint sighed slightly. "Didn't need to know, didn't ask."

After a few more bits of information were conveyed between the two master spies, Clint decided to comment on something that he's been noticing more and more since he woke up. Natasha sat down beside him so that their sides were on the verge of touching. They were being watched by guards to thy had to keep it professional, and the almost contact was enough for them right now. She didn't seem to be herself, something happened when he was under. "What did Loki do to you?"

"He didn't, I just..." Natasha said, voice squeaking slightly. She looked flustered. Not the kind of flustered that she was after meeting the Hulk, but the kind when she didn't know how to express her emotions. She had never been good at that. She let out a long breath and looked down, away from her partner.

"Natasha." Clint whispered in that special way he had that let her open up. He saw her look up at the wall across from them and debated reaching for her hand for a second, when she started to speak.

"I've been compromised." She said in an annoyed voice. She hated that word with all her heart. She was not weak, she should have never let something like that happen.

Clint looked away and nodded, knowingly. He knew that she had been on a mission in Russia, and been brought back most likely for his sake. He knew that whatever was going on outside with Loki, she had only been fighting to get him back. They needed each other more than anything, and when he had been under Loki's control, she had been less than perfect. He knew that hurt her in ways that he couldn't even imagine.

"I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out." She continued, letting him know that no matter what happened already today, she was going to fight Loki and whatever he had in store for them. She needed to do something so outrageous to help the human population that the number of people she saved would have a fighting chance of outweighing the number of people she's killed.

6TH AVENUE, MIDTOWN MANHATTAN:

Clint and Natasha were currently keeping the fight with the Chitauri in an isolated area while the others were off fighting elsewhere. The two were fighting hard, but this was something they were used to, fighting side by side or back to back was what made them so close.

"Just like Budapest all over again!" Natasha yelled over the gunfire and various Chitauri noises. She was referring to the battle they had with 30-some men.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently." Clint replied. Sure, he remembered the battle, but what really stuck out in his mind was the kiss. The kiss that changed everything.

A FEW BLOCKS FROM 6TH AVE.

The Avengers; Captain America, Thor, Iron Man, the Hulk, Hawkeye, and Black Widow were sitting silently around a round table in a small restaurant that was all but destroyed in the Battle of Manhattan. They had won.

Clint had his foot propped up on the back of Natasha's seat, partly because his ankle hurt from bursting through a window, but mostly because he needed to be in contact with her in some way.

Natasha sat looking at Clint, partly making sure he was okay, but partly because she needed to see him. With the events that just went down, she knew that Clint would be haunted with new nightmares, both of them would. She needed to let him know somehow that she would always be there for him. She gave him a look that asked Are you okay?

He didn't look back at her, but just sighed, defeated. It got the point across. I will be. It said.

Natasha was satisfied with the answer, knowing she shouldn't prod any more. She had tried to be discreet about her staring, but someone had noticed.

Tony sat across the table from Clint and Natasha, noticing the look she was giving him and wondered exactly what those two have been through. He had hacked SHEILD's files and knew they were partners, but didn't have enough time to dig around. The way she was looking at him though, that wasn't something that people who were just partners did, there was something else there. While he was itching to get the answer, he knew that after the Hell that they all just went through, they needed time to recover. Clint and Natasha especially, since they were the only two on the team that didn't have any special armor, super serum, the ability to transform into an indestructible beast, or have the genes of a god. They were the two most human people on the team. They were just two amazing spies that worked their asses off to get to where they are now. But where are any of us right now? Tony wondered to himself. Maybe none of them would ever know.

OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

Fury had given all the Avengers a well deserved leave of absence. Thor had gone back to Asgard, Tony was rebuilding Stark Tower into Avengers Tower, Steve was exploring what was left on New York City, and Bruce was trying to get his life back together somewhere in a remote country.

Clint and Natasha were the only two that stayed together. They were flying back to one of their favorite places. Clint was piloting the borrowed SHEILD plane, and Natasha was co-piloting. At first, Clint didn't want to tell her where they were going, but she told him she wouldn't be able to help fly if she didn't know their destination. He gave in to her reasoning and told her.

Three hours later, they landed at SHEILD base to park the jet, and headed off to their own private safe house. They had made sure it felt like a home, something neither of them had much of in their lives what with Clint running away at a young age and Natasha being kidnapped when she was five. The closest thing either of them had to a home since then was each other. That had been enough for them, but they found themselves wanting more.

This was the place to chose to satiate that need. As they walked through the streets, they came the part of town that overlooked the main road. They could hear music flowing up from the plaza as they climbed the stairs to their apartment. It didn't look any different from when they were there last, as Fury had promised them to not use it as a SHEILD safe house. It was all their own.

After habitually checking the place for anything out of the ordinary, Natasha went to her room, or their room really. They hadn't been back here in a while, but even so, it was a comfort to her.

Clint followed her in a few moments later as she pulled open the corners to reveal the beauty of Gran Via.

"Clint?" Natasha asked quietly as he approached her.

"Yeah?" He answered.

She moved to her left slightly so he could stand in the window next to her. "Why Madrid?" She asked, but already knew the answer.

Instead of moving to Natasha's side, Clint came up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her and gently putting his head on her shoulder. "Recovery." He said plainly.

Natasha wrapped her arms around his and held him to her just as tight as he held her.

After a while of standing together and basking in each other's company, Clint broke the silence.

"Tasha?" He said quietly against he shoulder.

"Hmm?" She hummed back.

Clint was about to say what was really on his mind, when he stopped himself. He breathed in heavily and went back to staring out the window of the one place they could call home.

"Never mind." He said, shaking his head slightly.

Natasha wondered what he was going to say, but decided not to ask. He would tell her in his own time. "Okay." She replied simply, going back to silence.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, holding on to each other like letting go was the hardest thing to do.

Later that night, they went out and walked around the city, reacquainting themselves with the beauty and history of the place. They found themselves lingering in a small outside cafe in the Plaza del Sol just a few blocks from their apartment. They were listening to the intricate progressions of the guitar from a small band that was playing near them. There were couples that were dancing to the music not too far from them and after they finished their meal, Clint got up and stood next to Natasha.

"¿Puedo tener este baile?" (May I have this dance?) He asked as he held out his hand, hoping she would take it.

Natasha raised her eyebrow in the way that nearly made Clint swoon. After a moment she gracefully placed her small hand in his large, rough one, and he led them to the middle of the dancing crowd. They started off just swaying to the music, enjoying the small movement. When the music picked up however, Clint smiled largely at Natasha, and this time it was her turn to almost swoon.

Natasha recognized the song, and Clint soon caught on to the look in her eyes.

"¿Es esta la canción que bailaron el la azotea?" (Is this the song we danced to on the rooftop?") He asked her softly.

Natasha smiled and nodded before Clint led them into the same type of movements as that night. They moved like trained professionals would, hips swaying and feet following intricate patterns that Clint came up with on the spot. Natasha followed them easily since they were so in tune with each other. It was nice for the both of them to have the chance to read each others movements outside of fighting.

The people around the area noticed the couple and made more room for them as a small crowd gathered to see the impromptu display.

Natasha noticed the growing number of people and looked to Clint, speaking quietly so no one else could hear. "You know, Fury said to not draw attention to ourselves before he gets the whole Manhattan thing cleared up." She added a smirk at the end to make it seem like she was saying something sultry.

"You know what?" Clint asked with a gleam in his eye.

"What?" Natasha asked, letting one eyebrow raise up again.

"Screw attention." He whispered in her ear before pulling them into a series of delicate yet powerful turns that would have made anyone else quite dizzy. As the song came to a close, the two stopped turning and Natasha wrapped her right leg around Clint's left, and brought it up around his knee as he slowly dipped her down dangerously low. On the very last note of the song, he brought her back up faster than you could blink, and their faces were centimeters apart. They were both breathing heavily and smiling at each other discretely as the now quite large crowd began to clap.

With their faces still close, Clint spoke. "Whaddya say we get outta here, Romanoff?"

"Sounds like a plan, Barton." She responded before they walked out of the group of people, hand in hand, before running back towards their apartment.

Once they were back, they both got ready to go to sleep and crawled into bed next to each other. They weren't as close as they normally would be, both of their minds still reeling from the past few days.

Hours passed and neither of them were able to let themselves fall asleep, fearing the nightmares that they knew would certainly plague them. Natasha turned to face Clint after a while.

"Can't sleep?" She asked quietly, knowing he was still awake.

"No." He said in a far away voice.

Even though it was dark, she could see the outline of his face, and he seemed to be turning something over and over in his head.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked.

"Natasha, I-" He started, before cutting himself off.

Sensing that her partner was holding back because of her, she said, "Clint, you said you chose Madrid so we could recover, right?"

He nodded.

"Well you can't recover if you can't even tell me what's going on in your head that keeps you from sleeping." She said in a no nonsense voice that was still soft around the edges.

Clint took a deep breath and then told her. "I can't get the image out of my head of me holding a knife to your throat. I was so close to killing you, Tasha, and I don't know what I would have done with myself if I lost you."

He paused, but Natasha knew there was more so she remained silent.

"We already lost Coulson and I don't even know how to begin dealing with that, but if I had lost you, if I had killed you," He said the words like they were fire on his tongue, "I don't think I could've lived with myself." He finally spit out.

Natasha had no comforting words for him, because there were no words that would make him feel better, so she just curled herself into him in the familiar way that they had.

Clint relaxed after a moment, knowing that this was Natasha's way of making him be able to think of something other that the horrors that came to him at night. He reached up and stroked her hair as she buried her head into his shoulder.

They both knew they wouldn't sleep very well tonight, or anytime soon for that matter, but as long as they had each other, they could deal with it.

Clint hadn't said all that he really wanted to say, there were still three little words that were itching at the back of his mind to be let out. He desperately wanted to say them, but he desperately needed to recover before he would allow them to come tumbling out of his mouth.

After another hour, he felt Natasha's breathing start to even out, signaling that she was falling asleep, and he felt himself doing the same. They both had nightmares that night, as was to be expected, but each time one awoke, the other was there along side them, providing whatever comfort they could in the state they were in.

Recovery would take a while for the both of them and the process would be an arduous one, but it would be worth it in the end.


	16. Chapter 16

During their stay in Madrid, Clint and Natasha would sometimes sneak into the SHEILD base there to train. No one was supposed to know they were still in the city. Fury knew that they had taken a plane to Madrid, but they had told him that they were going elsewhere after landing. Only one person knew that the agents-on-leave were still in Madrid. That person? Agent Guiteras, of course.

She was on rotation in Madrid and had caught Clint and Natasha on their way to the gym at three in the morning. The two had disabled the cameras and made sure that no one would see them, or so they thought. They snuck in through a window close to the roof of the hallway outside the gym and were just about open the gym doors when they hear a familiar voice behind them.

"No debeis estar aquí." (You should not be here.) She said. Agent Guiteras always had trouble sleeping, so she would come to the gym on a regular basis to wear herself out.

Neither Clint nor Natasha turned around as Natasha responded.

"No sabía que estabas en Madrid, Guiteras." (I didn't know you were in Madrid.) Natasha stated before she and Clint turned around simultaneously.

"¿Cómo habríais sabido que estaba aquí?" (How would you have known that I was here?) Agent Guiteras rebutted. She now stepped closer to Clint and Natasha, whom stayed silent.

"¿Qué os trajó aquí?" (What brought you here?) Agent Guiteras continued.

Clint and Natasha knew that she wasn't talking about the gym anymore, she was asking why they chose to come to Madrid, where she had grown up.

This time it was Clint's turn to speak. "Tenemos nuestros razones." (We have our reasons.) He said coldly. He hadn't had too much interaction with agents since the Battle of Manhattan, and he wasn't too happy about being caught here by Natasha's old roommate.

Natasha shot Clint a look. "Clint, no necesitas estar tan frío. Estoy segura que Guiteras no dirá nada a nadie sobre esta noche." (You don't need to be so cold. I'm sure Guiteras will no say anything to anyone about tonight.) She then shot Agent Guiteras a look during the second sentence.

Agent Guiteras nodded in agreement. "Es la verdad. Pero tengo una pregunta más..." (It's true. But I do have one more question.) She said while taking notice to something different about the two agents standing in front of her.

"¿Y qué es?" (And what is it?) Natasha asked, wondering what made the other woman's face change into that of recognition.

"Estais en pie más cerca que antes." (You are standing closer than before.) She stated, trying to put the last pieces together as the three of them stood in the dark. She could tell Clint and Natasha were getting impatient, but wanted to confirm her suspicions before shooing them away.

"That wasn't a question." Clint said in English, obviously irritated. He still hated the fact that he had killed so many agents when he was under Loki's control, and now this one was prodding them like they were criminals.

Agent Guiteras turned her gaze to him, giving him a serious look before responding. "No había terminado." (I had not finished.) She continued in Spanish. Once she knew that she had their cooperation for the moment at least, she continued.

"Estais en pie más cerca que antes, ¿por qué?" (You are standing closer than before, why?) She stressed the last words, letting them know that she wanted an answer, not some mierda about 'having reasons.'

Clint and Natasha visibly stiffened, thought if you asked them, they would have denied it. Agent Guiteras stood her ground, thought she knew that they didn't want to tell her, she still wanted to know. Some people might have called her nosey, but she just wanted to know what made her ex-roommate actually look human.

Clint and Natasha shared a look, then turned back to Agent Guiteras. They were standing so that their sides were practically touching, and they could feel the heat coming off each other. After taking a breath, Clint simply reached down and grabbed Natasha's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Agent Guiteras finally got the answer she was looking for, even though she was quite certain of it before. She smiled warmly at them and didn't look at all surprised, confirming their suspicions that she knew beforehand. She started to turn and walk away when she was stopped by Natasha's voice.

"Raquel?" She called after Agent Guiteras.

Guiteras turned around to face them again, noting that they were still holding hands tightly.

"Gracias." Natasha said in her perfect Spain-Spanish accent. That always took Guiteras by surprise a bit because most non Spain-native Spanish speakers didn't have that accent, normally they made fun of it.

"¿Para qué?" (For what?) She asked.

"Por no decir nada sobre esta noche." (For not saying anything about tonight.) Natasha said seriously.

"De nada." She said, and paused before turning to walk away again. She remembered something, or rather someone who was being particularly annoying as of recent. "Pero por favor, póngase en contacto con Tony Stark, él ha estado llamando todo el mundo preguntando donde ustedes dos son." (It's nothing. But please, contact Tony Stark, he's been calling everyone, asking where you two are.)

Guiteras didn't give them time to ask her any questions because she was already on her way down the hallway. She did, however, call over her shoulder. "Now get your asses out of here before someone catches you." She said, letting her thick accent show through, probably because she hasn't been speaking much English during her time on base in Madrid.

Clint and Natasha watched the only only person besides Fury and Coulson who knew about their relationship just walk away from them like nothing happened.

Since Clint learned of Coulson's death, he had only one person he could trust, and that was Natasha. Now maybe, just maybe, there was another agent he could start trusting a bit more than the others.

Putting the failed training session behind them, Clint and Natasha snuck back out of the base, reseting the cameras once they were clear.

"I wonder what Stark wants now." Natasha said irritably.

"Hell if I know," Clint responded. "You're the one who worked for him." He said teasingly.

"Don't remind me." Natasha stated, rolling her eyes. Even though she had 'worked for him' when he was a dying man, he still got on her nerves. Now they were teammates and she didn't really know how that would pan out.

The next day, Natasha decided to call Tony Stark on her SHEILD phone. She knew that unless she contacted him, he would keep asking around. While she didn't suspect that Agent Guiteras would give them away, she still didn't fully trust her. After a few rings, Tony finally picked up.

"Who is this?" He asked incredulously.

"Hello to you too, Stark." Natasha said in an annoyed voice.

"Agent Romanoff." He said mockingly, recognizing her voice. "Why can't Jarvis trace your number?"

"It's a SHEILD phone, it's untraceable." She said seriously.

"Why didn't you just use a normal cell phone for like the rest of the human population?" He asked.

"I don't have one." She answered.

"You're joking." He said.

Natasha sighed. "No, I'm not. I just never needed one."

Tony was silent for a second, but then spoke. "Well when you come back to the tower, I'll have a brand new, normal cell phone for you."

"What do you mean, 'when I come back to the tower?'" Natasha asked.

Tony ignored her question and asked one of his own. "What'd ya call for anyway?"

Natasha put her question to the back of her mind for now. "I'm surprised you asked that, considering you've been pestering all of SHEILD, asking for Barton and me."

"Oh yeah!" Tony exclaimed. "You two are the only ones that I couldn't find. I even managed to track down Banner in Bhutan. Where the hell have you been?"

Natasha internally smiled at the fact that the great Tony Stark couldn't track them down in one of the largest cities in Europe. "That's none of your concern, Stark. What did you need to find us for?"

"Well little miss hidey-spidey," He started.

Natasha scowled at the nickname.

"I'm hoping - no, demanding your presence back in New York. I've got something planned."

"That sounds ominous." She said dryly.

"It's nothing bad, but it is a surprise, so don't go doing your spy stuff and try to figure it out, because you won't be able to." He told her.

"I work for an intelligence agency that specializes in finding people who are top-notch at keeping a low profile, I don't think I'd have a hard time figuring out what a guy like you is up to." Natasha countered.

"Yeah, well don't." He replied. "I need you and Barton back in New York by tomorrow midday so you can get settled here."

"Get settled where?" She asked before he continued.

He just ignored her question once again. "Do you know where Hawkeye is?"

"Yes." She said, getting exasperated at her unanswered questions.

"Of course you do." He said quietly before continuing. "Can I get in touch with him?"

"No. I'll make sure he gets the message." She said coldly before hanging up.

Clint walked over to her from the living room, noticing her obvious stress.

"I honestly don't know how Pepper Potts puts up with him." Natasha stated, shaking her head.

"What did he want?" Clint questioned.

Natasha sighed again and turned to her partner. "He said we're needed in New York by tomorrow midday. He has a surprise planned and we have to 'get settled.'"

"No other information?" Clint asked, comfortably going back into somewhat of a spy mode.

"No." Natasha said harshly. She walked to their bedroom and started to pack her things into her bags.

Clint looked at her questioningly.

"Might as well take everything with us, knowing Stark, this isn't going to be done quickly." She said, answering his unasked question.

With no further words, Clint started to pack his things as well. As much as he didn't want to leave this small slice of heaven that he only shared with Natasha, he knew it was probably about time they rejoined the outside world. They were both starting to get antsy and desperately wanted to get back to work, though neither of them wanted to verbalize it.

After they had finished packing, and had thoroughly cleaned their weapons, Clint turned to Natasha.

"What should we do on our last night in Madrid?" He asked with a gleam in his eye.

Natasha caught on to his unspoken suggestion. "Well, I was thinking we could just stay in." She said with the same gleam in her eyes and a smile on her face. Clint was the only person, besides Coulson, who could calm her down. But now she only had one of them.

While Clint was now the only person who could calm her down, what he did next didn't really meet that qualification.

He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, and his touch was enough to make Natasha's pulse rise. She responded by wrapping her smaller arms around his neck and gently rubbing the back of his neck, making him shudder. Both of them were always amazed at how the other could evoke a reaction from them with something as simple as touch, not that they were complaining.

Clint dipped his face down dangerously close to Natasha's but paused for a second, taking on a serious look. Those three little words were itching to escape once again, but he wouldn't let that happen yet, not now. So he settled for helping Natasha break down her barriers. "You saved me from Loki, from myself. Whatever debt you felt you owed me before has been repaid, Tasha."

He hoped with his whole heart that she got that he was referring to her 'Love is for children, I owe him a debt' line that she shot to Loki during her interrogation.

Natasha's eyes were full of understanding, she and Clint always had their own way of communication.

Clint was satisfied with her reaction, and decided to get this show on the road. He smiled at her before closing the space between their lips. The kiss was full of heat, passion, and countless other emotions that Natasha refused to admit she felt. Besides being all those things, the kiss was gentle and tender, something that both of them had had limited amounts of.

Their stay in Madrid had been focused on getting back to whatever normal was for them, and most of the recovery they did involved helping each other mentally. They gave each other something stable to hold on to whenever they felt they were unable to cope with something. Even so, moments like this, ones that were almost purely physical, were also something that both of them craved. They needed to feel close to someone, to feel like they were still human in some way.

Natasha gripped Clint's hair harder, leaving him just this side of pain, and deepened the kiss. They let themselves get lost in each other, knowing that this would be the last night that they would be completely alone for a while, and they were going to take advantage of that.

When they both needed to come up for air, Natasha pushed Clint back onto the bed and crawled on top of him before he could realize what happened. She pretended that she was going to pin him to the bed, before settling with just straddling his hips and arching her body into his.

Before he could fully regain his breath, Clint found his lips being taken over by Natasha once again. He chuckled against her mouth at her hastiness and pulled her closer to him.

Natasha felt him laugh and pulled her lips away from his in mock protest. He hair fell around their faces, and was just long enough to act as a curtain to the outside world. She saw Clint's face morph from amusement to confusion as she propped herself up to a semi-sitting position by placing her hands on his chest. She decided to tease him farther by looking around the room, pretending to be oblivious of the man she was sitting on.

Clint stared at her for a moment, half appreciating her beauty, and half wondering what in the hell she was up to. "Tasha?"

"Mmm?" She hummed back, seemingly preoccupied.

"What are you doing?"

"Just lounging around." She said with a smirk on her face. She still didn't meet his eyes, but let them take in the room once again.

Clint realized that words would not snap her out of her fake trance, so he decided to take drastic measures. He cleared his throat and grabbed that one specific spot on her side that never failed to make her jump a bit.

"Clint!" She exclaimed, hitting him on the chest.

Feigning hurt, he put a hand protectively over the spot she just assaulted. "Ouch, Nat! There's no need for violence here." He said in a joking tone.

Natasha broke her character and brought her face back to his, hovering over him until she felt his breath hitch when she brushed her fingers over that spot behind his ear. "You should know by now to not try and tickle the Black Widow." She whispered seductively.

"I do a lot of things I'm not supposed to do, Tasha." He retorted with a wink.

Natasha rolled her eyes at his comment and brought her lips back to his before he had a chance to say anything else. She ran her fingers through his hair as he rubbed his hands on her lower back and around her waist, both of them wanting to get as close as possible. Their lips moved in absolute synchronicity, allowing them to focus only on each other and bring themselves out of the hyper-vigilant mode that they were almost always in.

Clint moved to flip them over, but Natasha stopped him. "Overeager sonofabitch." She mumbled against his lips, causing them both to laugh lightly. Their lips fought for dominance for quite some time before they needed oxygen, and something more.

The following day, Clint and Natasha were awakened by their alarm much earlier than they wanted to be since their festivities the night before had them up quite late. Natasha was about to turn off the annoying sound when suddenly Clint's arms were around her from behind, holding her to him like he always did when he was tired.

"Too early. Ten more minutes." He snuggled himself further into the back of her neck.

Natasha giggled, a very un-Natasha think to do. "Clint." She half warned/ half laughed.

"'M tired." He responded, hugging her tighter.

Natasha didn't know how much closer he could hold her before they morphed into one. "Clint," she started as she rubbed his arms, "we have to get out of bed. We have to fly back to New York today."

Clint let up his hold a bit, and Natasha escaped his grasp, as much as she didn't want to. She turned of the alarm and went to go shower.

Clint groaned at the loss of his partner in their bed. "Fuck Stark." He stated as he threw the blankets off himself and went to finish packing while he waited for Natasha to finish in the shower.

Once they were both ready to go, they quickly fixed up the apartment to their specifications, and locked it up securely. They headed out to the SHEILD base where Agent Guiteras made sure there was a plane for them, and took off. SHEILD planes were faster than commercial jetliners, but it still took them a solid six and a half hours of flight time to land at the base in New York. The building was in one of the boroughs that was not affected by the Chitauri invasion, but the looks on people's faces still reminded them of the death and destruction that had taken place no more than a month ago. Tony Stark was waiting for the two of them in the hangar where they parked the plane. He had driven his Acura NSX Roadster, and Happy drove the Audi R8 for Natasha and Clint to drive back to the tower.

Clint stepped out of the plane before Natasha, who was in the back doing post-flight checks, took one look at the cars, and was amazed. He noticed the fact that Tony only brought one extra car. "Only one car, Stark?" He asked, playing up the fact that he appeared to be alone.

Tony looked a little perplexed at his current situation. "Well, I figured you and Romanoff would show up together." He said truthfully.

As if on cue, Natasha's voice echoed throughout the hangar. "Barton, if you expect me to carry your shit, you're dead wrong."

"Excuse me a moment." Clint said before turning away to collect his things like nothing had happened.

"Real funny, Hawkboy." Tony called after him.

Moments later, Clint and Natasha appeared from behind the jet, mumbling something about stupid nicknames. Each of them only carried two duffle bags.

"That's all the clothing you have?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Well actually, these two only contain our weapons and suits." Natasha answered, gesturing to the two large bags she held with a serious look on her face.

Happy's jaw dropped to the floor, and Tony looked a little wary to having that many weapons in the back of one of his precious cars. Nonetheless, they all drove back to the tower, which now held the name, Avengers Tower.

Once the three of them were in the lobby, they noticed the growing crowd just outside the doors.

"Well first things first, and please don't interrupt me until I finish, I have convinced Fury to allow you two to live here when you're not on assignment. Barton, you have the 86th floor, and Natalie-"

"Natasha." Natasha corrected firmly.

"What did I say about interrupting me?" Tony said before receiving a glare from Natasha and continuing. "Romanoff, you have the 85th floor, unless you two would like to share?"

Tony only received unamused looks from the two assassins. They both knew that they would end up sneaking to each other's rooms anyway.

"Okay then," Tony said, clapping his hands together once. "Go get yourselves situated on your floors and meet the rest of us in the living room on the 91st floor in ten minutes." And with that, Tony ran off to find Pepper and tell her that the two newest residents had arrived.

Ten minutes later, the Avengers, plus Pepper and minus Thor, who was still on Asgard, were all in the newly renovated living room of Avengers Tower.

Clint and Natasha stood next to each other, and noticed that Tony had adopted a rather serious tone from a few minutes earlier. Steve Rogers stood across the room from Tony, and Bruce Banner stood next to him. Pepper was hovering around the group, not yet having received formal introductions from all of them.

Once Tony had made sure Pepper was acquainted with the group, he stated what they were all brought together for. "Due to the events of Loki's invasion, we lost a man that I considered a friend, Phil Coulson."

Natasha's gaze shot to Clint at the mention of their handler, though both of them remained stoic.

Tony continued, "I have organized a memorial service to honor him, and it's scheduled for this afternoon in a sectioned off portion of Central Park."

This time, everyone in the room noticed that both Clint and Natasha visibly reacted to the news. Normally, the two spies would never let their reactions show, but they had fought with these people, and they felt that they could entrust them with this small bit of humanity.

Clint looked at Tony with a cold, hard gaze. "Does Fury know about this?"

Tony looked taken aback at the question, he was expecting more of a 'happy' welcome to the event. "Yeah, he's going to speak at the memorial, and so am I. Most of the SHEILD agents that worked with Coulson will be there, and so will all of you. Since it's still early, any of you that don't have formal black clothing," He glanced at Clint and Natasha, "Still have time to go get something quick. I don't care how you get to the memorial, just be there at three o'clock."

Clint was the first to run out of the room after Tony finished, and Natasha was quick to follow, neither of them bidding goodbyes. The rest of the team stood there, staring at where the two assassins had been, just now realizing how important Phil Coulson had been to them.

At 2:59 that afternoon, everyone had finally shown up. Director Fury, Agent Hill, Natasha, and Clint made up the front row on the left side, while Tony, Pepper, Steve, and Bruce made up the other. Steve wore an ordinary suit, but still managed to look quite extraordinary in it. Bruce wore an old black suit he had from before the Other Guy, and looked quite, Banner-y. Tony was wearing an expensive tuxedo, because he swore against anything but the best for such occasions. Pepper was in a black dress with long sleeves that made her arms and legs look even longer than they were, and her hair was tied up in a tight bun. Clint was in a smooth black suit that made him look like a muscular businessman, while maintaining his secret agent status. His shoes were new and shiny, although he had just wanted to wear his combat boots. Natasha was in a black dress as well, but it was much different than Peppers, it had short sleeves, and was fitted the whole way down to where it stopped a few inches above her knees. Her short red curls fell flawlessly around her face, and she wore a pair of sleek black heels that she had hidden in her weapons bag, but unlike Clint, she somewhat enjoyed dressing up.

After the everyone had settled in, Fury was first to get up and speak.

"Phil Coulson was one of the best agents this organization has ever seen. He was determined, hardworking, talented, stern when he needed to be, but also one of the best people to talk to on a regular basis. He always did what was right, even if it was against my orders. He worked on countless assignments, trained quite a few of the people sitting here today, and also had the audacity to take on the team that seemed like it would've never worked." He looked directly at Clint and Natasha and continued. "These last few years, no matter what was going on in his life, if you asked him what he was most proud of, he would say, without a doubt, 'Strike Team Delta.'" He addressed the rest of the crowd once again and continued, trying to lighten up the mood a bit, something that was very uncharacteristic for him. "Sure, in the beginning when Agent Romanoff had just been assigned to work with Agent Barton, he would come bitchin' and moanin' to me, but never once did he think that they couldn't work together. They may have given him hell, but he turned them into the success that they are today. Now, we don't usually have services or memorials for SHEILD agents, just because there are so damn many of them, but Phil Coulson deserves this. He was the best of the best, and I hope to whatever god exists that no one will ever forget that."

Tony was next up to the podium, and everyone there was a bit worried, given his history of public speaking.

"I met Agent Coulson when he and, who I now know to be Agent Romanoff, were assigned to keep an eye on me during a health crisis. He was straightforward and didn't want to take any of my shit. In that short time, I started to think of him as the older brother I never had, regardless of age, which I still don't even know..." He trailed off. "Anyway, I guess what I'm getting at here is that even if you only knew Phil Coulson for a short time, he still had an impact on your life. He made you want to work harder, and do the right thing, no matter how much I may have wanted to do something wrong. I don't really have a wrap up to this thing, but I would like to say that I will always think about Phil Coulson when I'm about to do something stupid, and I'll think twice about doing it, even though I'll probably end up doing it anyway."

Tony stepped down, and the man who had given the opening speech before the personal ones asked if there were any other speeches. Natasha gave Clint a look to reassure him that his speech would be great, and that he should go speak. He got up and stood uncomfortably in front of the podium.

"I wasn't trained in this whole public speaking thing, but I guess I'll give it a try. When I met Coulson, I was in a very dark place, probably the darkest I had ever been. He saved me from whatever future I might have thrown myself into. He trained me and taught me how to handle the stress of this job, and of life in general. Along with helping with assignments, he became more of a father to me than my own father ever was. I looked up to Coulson more than I have to anyone else in my life. He was one of my best friends. As much as we here don't like to throw around the term 'hero,' I'd say that Phil Coulson qualifies to be called one. In one way or another, he has saved everyone here, and some of us multiple times. Besides bringing me into SHEILD, I have to thank Phil for working so goddamn hard with me and Natasha to make sure we didn't rip each other's throats out. Most of you will remember the incident in the gym, but no one really knows that if it weren't for Phil Coulson, my partnership with Agent Romanoff would have never worked. He was able to control both of our tempers while making progress in the process. I'm extremely honored that he saw us as one of his greatest achievements, even if I feel like I'll never be half the man he was. If it weren't for Phil Coulson, none of us would be where we are in life today, and for that, every single one of us has a reason to thank him."

When Clint stepped down, Natasha stepped up to reassure him again, but he motioned for her to go and speak. She was quite nervous on the inside, but she would never let that show. After exchanging a few words with Clint, she climbed the stairs to make her impromptu speech.

"After Agent Barton brought me into SHEILD and subsequently failed one of the most important missions of his career," She started, looking directly at Clint. "there was only one other person that thought I belonged here, and that was Phil Coulson. When I was admitted as an agent, I felt like an outcast, like nobody wanted me here. All I had for my first few months in this country was two people. I, like Agent Barton, had been in the darkest point in my life, even darker than most of you will ever experience, but with the help of him and Coulson, I saw that there was a chance to do something about my past. Little by little, I began to accept the fact that I wasn't the horrible monster I had thought I was, and a while later, other agents began to realize that too. As Clint said earlier," She noticed a few people look at her with confused faces, it was the first time she had called him Clint in the presence of others. "our partnership was anything but healthy for the first fifteen months. Both of us would wind up getting angry, and not really know how to handle it other than beating each other, but Phil was the only person to attempt to do something dynamic with the outbursts. Most everything that works in our partnership is due to the measures that Phil Coulson took to smooth out the many rough edges. If it weren't for him, I most definitely would not be where I am today."

Both Clint and Natasha had to use every trick in the book to not cry during each others' speeches. Though they had both only eluded to their pasts, they knew how much pain the other had gone through. The only other person who knew as much about them as they did was Coulson, and now he was gone.

The Avengers plus Pepper had decided to walk the short distance back to Avengers Tower, and were silent most of the way. There was small talk about local cafes or neat hole-in-the-wall places to visit, but nothing serious until Pepper spoke up.

"So, Clint, Natasha," She started, looking at them as if to ask if first names were okay, they nodded and she continued. "Your speeches were beautiful, and no one was really expecting you to speak, did you have them planned ahead of time?"

Clint and Natasha shared a look before Clint responded for the both of them. "No, it's just, something we've thought about a lot lately."

Tony took the collective pronoun as a sign. "So you two didn't spend the past month apart!" He exclaimed rather loudly after their somber afternoon.

"Tony!" Pepper scolded. He let the subject drop for the time being. The rest of the team was starting to see how Pepper was able to handle being in a relationship with Tony, she had him wrapped around her finger.

That night, most of the team ate dinner together, while Clint and Natasha kept to themselves on Clint's floor (though the rest of the team thought they were separated).

"I hate you." Natasha stated, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Why?" Clint asked, not completely sure if she was serious or not, but those were definitely not the three words that he wanted to hear from her.

"For making me go up there an basically bare my soul for everyone to see." She said, and he realized that she was still self conscious about things like that.

"Sorry." He said sincerely, and turned away from her.

Natasha brought his eyes back to hers by cupping his cheek in her hand and pulling his face around. "Clint." She managed in a whisper, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I know, Tash." Clint said as he fell the tears well up in his eyes as well. He pulled her closer to him on the couch they sat on that overlooked the city below. There was still more destruction than anyone would care to admit, but there was hope.

Clint and Natasha sat there wrapped up in each others' bodies and presence, letting tears fall for the first time since they were children. Had they lost a colleague just a few months ago, they wouldn't have cried, but now they felt more real, they felt human. Neither of them sobbed, but they just let the tears fall down from their eyes at a steady pace. The two assassins were content in the fact that they could be so vulnerable around each other, they could be angry, sad, happy, anything they wanted to be, but they were heavyhearted because they had lost the only other person they had. Losing Coulson made them realize how real the possibility was of losing each other.


	17. Chapter 17

Director Fury had given Clint and Natasha a few days more of leave because he felt that they would need time to adjust to their new residence, but also because they weren't even supposed to be back on the radar yet. The two were anxious to get back to work, but reluctantly agreed to spend time with the rest of the team.

Clint was better at adjusting to situations that involved people, whereas Natasha was better at adapting to changes in missions and sometimes even training. She had even gotten accustomed to the AI when she 'worked' for Tony.

"Jarvis?" She called out after she got dressed for the day.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" Jarvis automatically replied. Tony made sure that everyone had access to Jarvis, and had thankfully programed it to know that Natasha was in fact, not Natalie Rushman.

"Is there a library floor here?" She asked.

"On the 76th floor, but Mr. Stark has asked that no one go there for a while, it has not been fully renovated yet."

"Then he doesn't need to know I'm there." Natasha told him. "But do let Clint know that I'll be in the gym in an hour."

There was a moment of silence where the AI didn't respond, but then the calm voice came over the speakers once again. "I have just alerted Mr. Barton. Will there be anything else, Miss Romanoff?"

"No, thank you, Jarvis." Natasha responded quickly on her way out the door.

Natasha rode the elevator to the floor that housed the library and took note of the various cameras that were constantly recording almost every inch of the tower. Tony made sure that no cameras were installed on the residential floors because he was sure someone would kill him if they were there, but every other floor had constant surveillance.

At this moment, Natasha didn't really care if Tony watched the tapes later on and found that she went to an unfinished floor, she just needed get away from the rest of the team. Books had always been somewhat of an escape for her, they were one of the few recreational activities that Ivan Petrovich had allowed, though in limited quantities. She had read most of the classics in Russian, but wanted to read them in whatever language they were written in so she could experience the specific words and phrases that each author used.

She walked around the the high-ceilinged room that contained thousands upon thousands of books. The only light in the room came from the evenly spaced, floor to ceiling windows. Some of the shelves were covered with tarp and their books were sitting in boxes, while others stood majestically, the rich mahogany wood contrasting the modernity of the rest of the tower.

She explored the aisles a while before settling on an early French edition of The Count of Monte Cristo.

She found a large leather chair in the corner by a window and opened her book, listening to the cracking noises it made, for it had probably not been opened in years. She read for about half an hour, because she had spent quite a bit of time looking through the expansive collection, and put the book back in its place to go train with Clint.

While Natasha had been sneaking around the tower, Clint had been trying to get used to the people he now lived with. He hadn't spent as much time with them as Natasha had during the prelude to the battle because he had been under Loki's control, so the only one he even slightly knew was Steve. Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Captain America had fought alongside each other for a while that day, but Clint didn't really know Steve Rogers.

While most of the members of the Avengers were present in the living room, no one really spoke much, that is, except Tony Stark. Clint had managed to find a spot in the room where he could see everything that was going on, Steve and Bruce had placed themselves on chairs facing the rest of the room, and Tony stood smack in the middle of all of them. The tv was on in the background, but no one was really paying too much attention to it, no matter how much they were pretending to. The room was tense, but civil. At least until this conversation happened.

"Well, we should do something that involves all of us, since we're kind of a team now." Tony started.

The rest of the men stayed silent until Steve spoke up. He had gained respect for Tony after the battle, but he still didn't really care for him.

"'We?' 'us?' 'team?'" He started. "We're not a team if it takes someone dying to get us to work together."

Steve put a little too much emphasis on the dying part, and Bruce's eyes shot to Clint, gauging his reaction to the harshness of their teammates tone.

Tony hadn't noticed how tense the archer had gotten, and just continued the conversation.

"One life was lost to save millions of others. I'm not saying it's a good thing that Coulson died, but imagine what would have happened if he didn't."

Clint was getting increasingly angry at how the others were talking about his deceased friend and handler. His hands were balled into fists and Bruce was the only one who saw. Any attempts to alert the other two were futile.

"And what, now that Coulson's dead you think that this whole team thing will work out just fine?" Steve retorted.

"That's the only thing that made us able to work together before!" Tony quipped back.

Clint had had enough of this objectivity surrounding Couslon's death. He was still leaning against the wall when he spoke in an eerily calm tone. "Phil Coulson is not a fucking puzzle piece to put all of us together." He slammed his fist against the wall behind him when he stressed those words. "He was a person. He had a life, and didn't deserve to die just so we could work as a team. That was not his purpose."

Clint pushed himself off the wall and stormed across the room of 'superheroes' and went to the gym early to take some of his anger out on some punching bags before Natasha got there.

A few minutes later, Clint felt a cold hand on his shoulder and reacted without thinking first. He whipped around and let his left fist fly at the face of the person behind him as he turned around. Just before his fist connected with her face, Natasha ducked out of the way, grabbed both of his wrists, and spoke.

"Clint! What the hell?" She yelled at him.

Natasha's voice and familiar grip pulled Clint out of his blinding rage, and he let his body relax slightly as she let go of his wrists.

Clint decided that now was not the time to discuss the rest of the team, he knew that adding today's events to whatever problems Natasha already had with them would only counteract their progress to actually become a team. Natasha noticed her partners reservations about talking so she asked a different question.

"Spar?" She said simply.

"Yeah." Clint said, and nodded towards the brand new mats in the gym.

The two began their usual routine and tried to get accustomed to the layout of the gym they'd be spending a considerable amount of time in. They did their usual song and dance of warm-ups, tested each other's swiftness, and eventually mocked out an entire fight. Natasha ended up winning that one and had Clint pinned to the ground. She held his wrists down on either side of his torso while she straddled his hips, her legs pushing down on his so he couldn't move to get up. Both of them were breathing heavy, since they were stressed out about their new living arrangements and the fact that they still weren't out on missions again. The sparring session had done them both worlds of good though, because Clint was back to his joking self, and Natasha didn't really want to punch him in the face for it.

"Hey Tash?" Clint said with a small smile.

Natasha simply looked at him in response.

"I can still move my arms." He said as he lifted them up, consequently also lifting Natasha's upper body with them.

"Okay then." Natasha said before she readjusted her grip on his wrists, pinned the above his head, and moved to straddle his torso, all quicker than Clint could respond. "How about now, Barton?" She leaned her face down to his as she brought her body flush against his which loosened her grip in his wrists.

"Now I don't think I want to move." He managed to say before Natasha captured his lips in her own.

The bliss-induced moment allowed them to both forget whatever was going on with the others, and remember that no matter what, they would always have this. However, the moment was unfortunately short-lived because the ever-alert Natasha heard footsteps coming towards the gym. She rolled off her partner and went to grab her stuff.

"Jarvis," She began.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" The AI replied instantly.

"Please erase the footage in this gym from the past 10 minutes." She said as Tony Stark entered the doorway.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff." Jarvis said.

"What did you just erase footage of?" Tony asked, being nosy as ever.

"None of your business, Stark." Natasha responded as she walked towards the door where Tony stood.

Tony shook his head. "My tower, my business." He stated annoyingly.

Natasha pulled a knife out of nowhere and gently pushed Tony against a wall, grazing the dull side of the blade against his neck. "None of your business." She repeated in a slow, deep tone.

The action, however gentle, actually scared Tony quite a bit. Natasha noticed the submission in his eyes and pulled away, putting the knife back to god-knows-where and walked away from the gym.

After Tony was sure Natasha was gone, he turned to Clint and cleared his throat. "Hey," He began. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn't realize what I was saying. I'm sorry about what I said about Coul-"

"Don't." Clint said, finally looking up at Tony from where he was gathering his things.

Tony looked at him, confused.

"Words are pointless. You can say one thing, and mean the complete opposite. I'm not accusing you of being insincere here, but I've learned not to trust what people say most of the time."

Tony understood the reasoning behind the mistrust, but he still hoped that someday, they would be able to trust each other.

"At least let me make it up to you." Tony said, moving his hands like he was offering a present.

Clint looked slightly intrigued at the billionaires sudden generosity. "What did you have in mind?"

Tony thought about it for a minute, then turned back to the waiting archer. "How about a drink?"

Clint smirked at the suggestion. "God knows I need one of those."

Tony smiled at the fact that he actually got a response. "I think we all do. And you and Romanoff are off for a few more days, what do you say about all of us take a trip down to The Campbell Apartment bar in Grand Central?"

"Stark, I don't know if you remember this, but Natasha and I are supposed to be staying out of the spotlight, not going to Grand Central Station with some of the most well-known faces in the world." Said Clint.

Tony quickly had a solution to that predicament, and Clint figured he had thought about it before. "We'll show up at different times and get the booth in the back that can't be seen from the rest of the room."

Clint still looked as though he had reservations about the outing, so he offered one more thing. "I'll even convince your partner in crime to come along if that's what you're worried about." He said with an air of confidence.

Clint got a good chuckle at that. "As much fun as that would be to watch, I think you should leave that part to me."

Three convincing persuasions later, Brush, Steve, and Natasha reluctantly agreed to go out. They had decided that Steve, Bruce, and Tony would all arrive together first, finding the table in the back that was pretty hidden. Clint and Natasha would show up later, so they wouldn't attract attention to themselves. They were told to keep out of the public eye until Fury and the Council figured out what to do with the amount of publicity the Avengers were getting. While most SHEILD agents wished to be kept secret, especially Clint and Natasha, that seemed like a slimming possibility. Still, they wanted to protect their identities for as long as possible.

The two master assassins treated their arrival as a mission. They were 'covering' as a couple who was going to this bar for the first time, and just happened to meet up with friends who were hidden away in a corner. Luckily, no one recognized them as they quietly made their way to the back of the bar. They sat with their backs to the rest of the patrons in case someone eventually did.

"You two are awfully good at acting like a couple." Tony stated as they sat down.

"It's our job to be good at acting, Stark." Natasha stated as a waitress came over to their table, whom Clint and Natasha recognized to be a SHEILD agent. The agent gave them both a knowing look before turning to Tony for the drink orders.

Tony ordered different types of beer for Steve, Clint, and Bruce, whiskey for himself, and a bottle of the best Russian vodka they had for Natasha. Tony then made a declaration.

"I'm getting you all shwasted tonight!"

Most of the group looked at him with confusion written all over their faces.

"Shwasted means that you're really, really, drunk. You can't tell me you've never heard that before." He elaborated.

Steve was the one to reply first. "Well, none of us have really spent that much time out and about on the party scene, Tony."

"Then you're all in for a hell of a night." Tony stated as the drinks arrived at the table, along with five shot glasses.

"What are all the glasses for?" Bruce asked warily, he was okay with upwards of two beers, but after that he would start to lose control.

"Seeing which ones of us can't hold their liquor, and who can." Tony said matter-of-factly.

"I can't get drunk." Steve stated.

"I shouldn't get drunk." Bruce added.

"Okay then, looks like it's just us three." Tony said as he turned to Clint and Natasha.

"I'll just stick to my beer." Clint said before he took another swig. "But have fun trying to out do Romanoff here."

Tony scoffed at the suggestion that he's more of a lightweight than Natasha. "What do you weigh, Little Red, 115, 120?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"No seriously, what makes you think that you can out drink me?" Tony asked seriously.

Natasha cleared her throat to prevent herself from laughing a bit at Tony. "I'm Russian." She said, reminding him of the fact that he already knew.

Bruce and Steve were previously unaware of her heritage, but were now intrigued.

"Where in Russia are you from?" Bruce asked innocently.

Something in Natasha's eyes changed, but only Clint noticed it. "I really don't know where I'm from in Russia, but I think I lived around Moscow for about thirteen years."

"How do you not know for sure?" Tony asked, lacking all courtesy.

Natasha steeled her face even more before replying. "That topic's a little heavy for a night out with co-workers."

Reluctantly, Tony put the conversation aside for a later date, and poured shots for himself and Natasha. Tony held his glass up and yelled his cheers while Natasha just brought the glass straight to her mouth and knocked it back smoothly, placing the glass back on the table soundlessly. Tony on the other hand, tried to hide the face he made at the burn of the alcohol.

"God," Tony said after slamming his shot glass on the table. "What proof is this?"

Natasha didn't have to look at the bottle before answering. "It's only eighty."

Tony rolled his eyes at the fact that Natasha thought that 80 proof constituted the premise of 'only.'

The others at the table noticed the drastic difference in reactions between the two and found themselves snickering at Tony's obvious disgust towards the drink that was 40% alcohol.

The air around the table was still tense, but everyone tried to put that feeling aside to appear normal and connect as though they were average human beings. There was small talk and a bit of laughter, but Tony still did most of the talking, at least the talking that occurred in English.

"Natasha, Вы все еще чувствуете, хорошо?" (Do you still feel okay?) Clint asked quietly after Natasha and Tony had taken their 12th shot. Natasha had always been good at holding her liquor and still appeared to be completely fine, but Clint was worried that the fact that she was healing normally now might mean that she couldn't drink as much anymore.

"Да, чуть меньше контроля, чем в нормальной, но Tony будет сделано в ближайшее время, поэтому я буду в порядке." (Yes, just a little less in control than normal, but Tony's going to be done soon so I'll be fine.) She responded.

"No nececitas hacer esto, Natasha. Puedes parar si deseas." (You don't need to do this. You can stop if you want to.) He told her. He wanted them to keep switching languages so others couldn't follow the conversation, but also to make sure Natasha still had the ability to switch languages instantly. He learned in the past after a bad mission in the Ivory Coast that if she only spoke in Russian or English that she was compromised.

"Sí, yo se, Clint. Pero no voy a permitir un estadounidense me pegaba en que los rusos conocidos por ser buenos." (Yes, I know. But I'm not going to let an American beat me at what Russians are known for being good at.) Natasha responded quickly.

The rest of the table had noticed the multilingual conversation between the two assassins but were too amazed to comment at the moment.

"Ok, je suis en train de vérifier." (Okay, I'm just checking.) Clint said before taking another sip of his drink.

"Je vous promets que je vais bien." (I promise you that I'm fine.) Natasha stated before taking another shot in tandem with Tony. "Und Sie brauchen nicht zu halten mich auf die Probe," (And you don't need to keep testing me,) She started in German, pausing to look at the rest of their table. "Я думаю, что это им, что вы должны быть обеспокоены." (I think it's them that you should be worried about.) She finished.

Clint chuckled a bit at her statement, then realized that Tony was gawking.

"What?" Clint asked.

"How many languages was that last sentence in?" Tony asked Natasha.

"Three." She said simply.

"And there was Spanish in there somewhere too?" Steve prodded.

Natasha nodded.

"You speak four languages?" Tony asked, dumbfounded.

"No." Natasha said, and shared a look with Clint.

The other three men stared at her, all thoroughly confused.

"I can speak sixteen, but I'm only fluent in eight." She said, sounding disappointed at the last part.

Clint thought the other men's jaws were going to fall off when Bruce finally broke the silence that was hovering over them.

"That's astonishing. How did you manage to learn all those languages so effectively?" He asked.

"Lots of, uh, training." She answered. Wanting to change the subject, she held up the bottle of Russian Standard to Tony, who shook his head, defeated.

"I'm done, Romanoff. You got me." He said while holding his hands up in surrender.

"Good, I hate these little glasses anyway." She said before she brought the bottle to her lips and took a swig.

A man at a table close by that was too drunk to realize he was looking at the Avengers simply commented on Natasha's action. "Daaammmnnnnnn!" He drawled. One of his friends decided to add his input to the conversation.

"Dude, she's way hot. I dare you to get her number." He whispered. That didn't stop Natasha and Clint from hearing it, though.

Clint leaned in to whisper in Natasha's ear so that the rest of the group couldn't hear. "I'll kick his ass if he thinks he has a chance with my girl."

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes. "Мой спаситель!" (My savior!) She said sarcastically.

"What was that all about?" Tony slurred.

A knife suddenly appeared on the table, Natasha spinning it under her fingers. She gave Tony a hard look and he understood.

"Right, none of my business." He said and slouched back against the booth as Natasha put her knife away.

The man who commented earlier drunkenly sauntered over to the table. He turned to Natasha and pretended the others weren't there as he leaned in close to her. "Now what's a beautiful girl like you doing here with guys like these?"

Before Natasha could respond, Tony piped up. "Hey!"

The intruder turned to look at however interrupted him, when he realized who it was. "Holy shit! You're Tony Stark!"

"The one and only!" Tony shot back.

Clint and Natasha knew that if that man had noticed Tony, that the rest of them were soon to follow. "We need to go." Clint said.

Steve heard him and nodded. "We'll see you later."

Tony had the guy's complete attention, though unintentionally, so Clint and Natasha were able to sneak out before they were found out. When they were about to walk out the doors, they heard the man shout out, "Wait! You're Captain America!"

"That was too close." Natasha said once she and Clint made it back to living room in the tower. "As much as I want people to know that I have done good in the world, I'm not ready to change. I don't want to have to go on different missions. I still want to be Strike Team Delta. I know that if the public found out that we're part of the Avengers, that the Red Room would come after me again. They would come after all of us, they'd want you all dead and want to punish me for leaving. I don't want to be the reason, I can't be the reason that you're all in danger."

Natasha hadn't noticed that the rest of the team had walked into the living room while she was talking, since her back was to them. Clint had just given them all looks to stay quiet, but didn't really care if they were there right now. He wrapped his arms protectively around Natasha's small frame and spoke to her.

"It's okay, Natasha. Even if it does happen, none of us will blame you for it. You can't change your past, and no one holds that against you. If we could defeat some unknown alien force, we can defeat Ivan Petrovitch."

"Here here!" Tony exclaimed.

The sudden realization that they weren't alone startled Natasha and she quickly released herself from Clint's grasp. "How much did you hear?" She asked.

No one answered her, because they didn't know how much of it she didn't want them to hear.

"How much did you hear?" She demanded darkly.

Steve was the one to answer. "From when you started about the Red Room."

She rapidly spun around to face Clint. "You knew they were there and you still let me talk about that?" She asked, eerily calm, but with a storm brewing in her eyes.

"Tasha, I-" Clint reached out to touch her arm but she brushed it away.

"No." She said before walking past the others and running down the flights of stairs to her floor. Even from three floors up, Clint, Tony, Steve, and Bruce could hear the faint sound of a door slamming.

"If that door's broken, she's paying for it." Tony said.

"Tony." Bruce warned.

They all stood there in the dark for a moment before Steve spoke.

"Should someone go speak to her?" He asked innocently.

"No." Clint said coldly. "That would do more harm than good."

And with that, Clint left the living room to go to his own floor. He knew Natasha needed to be alone, she wasn't used to being around people she didn't really trust for that long, and to add to that she had been drinking. 'She'll be better in the morning.' He thought- he hoped.


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning, Natasha was the first one awake in the tower, which wasn't unusual, but the fact that it was four in the morning, however, was. She had decided before she fell asleep the night before that she would go into SHEILD when she woke up and ask for a mission. She knew she wasn't supposed to be back at work quite yet, but she needed something to distract herself. She needed to take out another bad guy to satiate the feeling of being one herself.

Knowing the rest of the team wouldn't be up for a while, she took her time and made her breakfast in the big kitchen they all shared. She barely turned any lights on, and made no noise as she navigated around the tower. She tried to write a note telling everyone, or at least Clint, where she had gone, but she just couldn't find the right words. She scratched out the writing, crumpled up the discarded piece of paper and headed out the door.

Luckily, Fury was still at the New York City base so Natasha didn't have to fly to the Helicarrier to speak with him. When she got there it was 5:00, which would have been early for most agents, but she knew Fury would already be behind his desk.

"Agent Romanoff, what the hell are you doing here?" Fury yelled as Natasha walked into his office without permission.

Natasha put on the professional face that she always wore around base. "Requesting a mission, sir."

"You and Agent Barton are still on leave." Fury stated, wondering if the assassin had forgotten his direct orders to stay away from base.

"I'm aware." Natasha replied. Her tone and body language made it obvious that she was not going anywhere until she was given an assignment.

Fury sighed and shook his head. "Fine. But I don't currently have any missions that require Strike Team Delta."

"I am requesting a solo mission, sir." Natasha said back faster than Fury expected.

He gave her a look before sighing again and responding. "I suppose you want a mission for today?"

Natasha nodded once.

"Well there is an assignment that Agent Bankert is supposed to take care of, but I'm sure you can convince her handler to let you take it."

"Thank you, Director." Natasha said before turning to leave for the briefing room.

"Oh, and, Agent Romanoff?" Fury called after her, making her turn around

"You may want to hurry, the briefing starts in five minutes." He finished.

After running through the maze of hallways in less than two minutes, she loudly knocked on the door. She knew Agent Bankert was always freakishly early for everything, so she was probably already in there. Hopefully, the briefing hadn't started yet.

"Who's there?" Natasha recognized the voice as belonging to Agent Bankert's handler, Agent Nizami, the man who incessantly flirted with her for three years now.

"Agent Romanoff." She responded.

"Uh - come in Agent Romanoff." Agent Nizami responded.

Natasha tried her best to ignore the way Nizami was looking at her, and the awe-struck face of Agent Bankert.

"Agent Romanoff, this is Agent Bankert. Agent Bankert this is-" Nizami said while gesturing to the two women.

"No time for introductions, Nizami." Natasha said.

Nizami gave Natasha the once-over, then realized something. "You're in full uniform, going on a mission?"

"Hoping to be." She stated as she glanced down at the mission detail folder on the table.

The man laughed a bit at Natasha's statement until she gave him a cold stare. "You expect me to hand you a mission that was given to my agent?" He asked, finally serious.

Natasha glanced at Agent Bankert and gave her a look that said 'watch and learn.' Natasha knew how to get whatever she wanted, and she knew that with a handler like Nizami, Bankert would have to learn sooner or later.

Natasha looked back to Agent Nizami, having quickly forced her expression into a soft, sweet look. She cocked her head to the side and began. "I want to keep myself from getting rusty after a leave of absence." She said before leaning forward on the table. "I would like you to brief me on this mission, and then head out in an hour."

Natasha quickly turned to Agent Bankert and gave her an apologetic look. "I hope that's okay with you."

Bankert was still trying to get over the quick personality change when she answered. "Uh, yeah, that's uh, that's fine with me."

Natasha flashed a grateful smile towards the newer agent, and turned back to Nizami and the file. "Shall we?" She said sweetly.

Nizami, having been completely taken advantage of by Natasha's actions, politely asked for Bankert to leave and briefed Natasha on her new assignment.

Natasha, having gotten what she wanted, went back to her cold persona.

"You're going to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to take out the head of the US branch of Arkema. Arkema is an international chemical company and intel has told us that the CEO of the US division is participating in illegal transactions with weapons dealers in Cuba. Any transaction of that caliber, no matter the steps taken, is illegal because of the embargo, but we have reason to believe that the chemicals being purchased have the potential energy to wipe out a city. We need you to get into the CEO's office however you can, but keep a low profile because we don't want anyone to recognize you. Lace the whiskey in his office with cyanide, and get out. Beware of the guards on your way out. We were going to send in a backup team in with Bankert, but since you're not supposed to be back yet, we can't let anyone go on assignment with you," He said as he wrapped up the briefing, "and I'm not a field agent anymore or else I'd go in there with you." He finished with a wink.

Natasha gave him an unamused look. "I'll be fine."

"Well I'll be right here if you need me." Nizami said as he smiled stuck a comm in his ear and handed another to Natasha, who rolled her eyes.

An hour plane ride later, Natasha was navigating throughout the Arkema building in Philadelphia. She went through unmonitored stairways, but stuck mostly to the air vents, much to her dismay. She reached the office without trouble, laced the whiskey that smelled horrid, and began her escape. She had been warned that getting in would be much easier than getting out, because with the way the building is built, the staircase she used to get in only opened from downstairs. There was another staircase she could use, but all the guards used it as well, and it had cameras, something she actively tried to avoid.

She went back to the vents for as long as she could, but eventually had to use the guard-infested staircase.

As soon as one of them saw her, it was all red alert. Natasha obviously didn't belong in the building, and on top of that, had just popped out of a vent let-out. She quickly knocked the guard out, not wanting to kill anyone who was, in reality, just doing their job. Unfortunately, the guard had had time to alert others in the area and she was quickly bombarded with orders to get down and disarm. 'Like hell.' She thought.

She lunged and began her attack. Cursing the fact that she didn't have a back up team, she quickly snapped small but powerful smoke bombs from her belt, and threw them down the stairs. Her opponents couldn't see where she was, but she had gotten so used to working in situations where sight was limited, she was able to take out ten guards without them knowing what hit them. She turned on her Widow's Bites for the first time since the Chitauri invasion, and proceeded with her assignment.

At one point, she had been fighting three men at the same time, while balancing on a single step. She managed to clear three floors of guards before realizing that she was still two floors up from the bottom, and there seemed to be no end to the men in the stairwell. She made a split second decision to jump down the remaining floors through the center of the staircase. It was narrow and dangerous, but it was her only way out. She leapt down and across, giving herself the momentum to be able to roll out of her fall, and ended up taking out another guard in the process.

The rest of the men started to follow her out of the stairs, but she threw a grenade behind her and slammed the door shut.

Natasha noticed a sign for the video control room and decided at the last second to go in and erase the video of her in the stairs. She hadn't had to do a lot of her own hacking since joining SHEILD, but had done her fair share in Russia.

After taking down the techs and erasing the evidence of her ever being in the building, she snuck out the back door where there were no more cameras, and silently raced through the streets to the extraction point.

Meanwhile, the rest of the occupants of Avengers Tower were beginning to worry where Natasha had gone. Clint had a pretty good idea, and had found the discarded paper in the trash can, but the only words left untouched on the page were, "Don't look for me, I'll be back soon enough."

Clint spent most of the day in the shooting range, going through almost all of the scenarios in two hours, something that should have taken him a few days at least.

Pepper wanted to spend time with the Avengers to get to know them since they were now all living in the same building. She had ordered Tony to order take out from whatever restaurant they wanted, and tried to make sure everyone would be there, but couldn't find Natasha.

Everything was set for dinner and almost everyone was sitting at the table in an awkward silence.

"Clint?" Pepper called out as she reached the living room floor.

"Yeah." He said as he walked up behind her, having just come back from the range.

Pepper seemed startled for a second and Clint apologized quickly.

"Sorry." He said as he continued walking to get a glass of water.

"Don't worry about it." Pepper responded, brushing it off. "Anyway, I was wondering if you knew where Natasha is? I can't find her anywhere."

"I have an idea of where she is, but all she said is that she'll be back soon enough."

"Thats...vague." Tony cut in.

"That's because it's probably classified." Clint said nonchalantly. "Shall we eat?" He said as he gestured towards the table, letting Pepper step ahead of him.

Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bruce, and Clint ate dinner while making small talk about this and that until Jarvis spoke.

"Master Stark, Miss Romanoff has just arrived back, would you like me to tell her to come to the living room?"

"Uh, yes please, Jarvis." Tony replied.

There was a moment of silence before the AI spoke again. "She is on her way up, but did have one request."

"And what might that be?" Tony asked in a slightly annoyed voice. Sometimes he hated that he programmed Jarvis to be so polite and formal.

"She asked that you, and I quote, 'Keep your mouth shut.'" Jarvis answered.

"That thing still surprises me." Steve said under his breath to Bruce.

Bruce chuckled and replied. "Yeah, it's a shock even for the rest of the modern human population."

Clint was the first to know Natasha was on the floor because he heard her footsteps. But what he noticed about them was unnerving. She seemed to be limping ever so slightly.

Natasha had changed into normal clothes before coming up to the living room floor, so the stares she got as she walked in were not from her uniform.

She rounded the corner and everyone else heard her enter, though Pepper was the only to speak.

Pepper stood up from her seat and walked over to where Natasha was standing in front of the table. "Oh my God, Natasha! What happened?"

Natasha had cuts on her arms, bloodied knuckles, bruises on her knees, a twisted ankle, and two rather scary looking bruises on her face. One on her left cheek bone, and the other on the right side of her chin. All in all, she didn't look too bad for the amount of fighting she did that day.

As everyone else took in Natasha's appearance and tried to guess what happened, Clint spoke up. "That's classified." He said before taking another bite of his food. He was concerned for Natasha but he knew that with everyone else gawking at her, she wouldn't want him making a spectacle out of her too.

Unfortunately, that didn't ease her anger. "I don't need you to answer for me, Barton."

"Easy, Spidey, we were all just enjoying a nice family dinner and then you come in here looking like World War III." Tony interjected.

"Didn't Jarvis tell you to keep your mouth shut?" Natasha countered.

"He did, but I'm not very good at following directions." Tony stated before changing the subject. "And if I remember correctly, you have some explaining to do about that broken door on your floor."

After the day she had, Natasha had absolutely no patience for anything, especially Tony's stupidity. She lunged at him, but Clint was up and restraining her, sending her knife clattering across the floor before anyone even knew she had it in her hand. Her eyes were aflame with anger and exhaustion as she looked up at him.

"Let. Go." She said through her teeth.

"Not until you calm down." Clint said just as heatedly. He was mad at her for leaving and not telling him where she was going, he was mad at her for getting herself hurt, but mostly he was mad at himself because he knew that what happened last night was the reason for all of this.

Tony, Pepper, Steve, and Bruce, once again found themselves looking on in awe at the two assassins.

"So you're going to tell me to calm down, but not tell me to stop talking about my past when other people are present? Sounds like a plan, Clint." Natasha said as she ripped her arms from Clint's grasp and walked towards the hallway.

She was almost out the door when Clint grabbed her arm where it wasn't hurt and whipped her around to face him.

"What the fuck?" Natasha yelled.

"I need to say something." Clint said calmly. He took Natasha not leaving as a sign to go on.

"Look, Natasha, I'm sorry for what happened last night. I should have told you that the guys were there when you started about the Red Room."

Natasha didn't let him finish his statement before jumping in. "I trusted you! I told you that I didn't want anyone to know about my past and then you go and pull a stunt like that? Letting me talk about it in front of other people?" She paused, trying to regain her breath for what she knew would end up being a fight like they used to have. She continued in Russian, "I trusted you with my past, but I can't trust them. We barely know them and now they know something about me that I don't want anyone to know!"

"What do you want me to say?" Clint asked in the same language.

"Why." Natasha said, eerily calm.

In the background, Tony was tapping away at the tablet-like table, pulling things up and finally finding what he wanted.

Clint took a deep breath to try and calm himself since both he and Natasha were virtually shaking with rage. "You needed to talk." He said simply.

"And you thought that would be the best time?" Natasha spat. She was more angry than anyone had seen her in a while.

"Neither of us were exactly sober, Natasha!" He snapped back with equal rage. "I didn't think you would notice after having drank more than Tony."

"Do you really think I would drink to the point where I'm not aware?" Natasha asked disbelievingly.

"You weren't aware the guys were there until Tony said something!" Clint fired back.

"That wasn't because of the alcohol and you know it! You of all people should know what can happen when my past comes in to play." Natasha said, causing Clint to remember the fight they had back at base that ended in her reliving the horrors in her mind.

Clint's anger lessened as his concern grew. "You know that I know that. I was just worried."

"Why were you worried? I was far more messed up at the end our mission in the Ivory Coast and I still did what I had to do! What was so different about last night?" She yelled back. Her anger having not lessened at all.

"Would you let me finish for once!" Clint yelled in English, making everyone but Natasha jump.

Once he was satisfied that Natasha was listening he continued again in Russian. "I was worried because the injection that made you heal better wore off and I thought that might mean that the others did too." He looked to Natasha for an answer.

She nodded.

"Tasha, that means," He started putting pieces together. "can you-"

"No. I can't. There was a surgery, and I can't. It never was and never will be a possibility." Natasha stated quickly before he could finish his question with the words 'Have children.'

"How do you know?" Clint asked, she never mentioned a surgery before.

"Once I noticed the change after Italy, I went to a doctor and she explained what the Red Room did probably around the time the, punishment, started." She managed to get out.

"You hate doctors and hospitals, why didn't you tell me you were going? I could have been there with you." Clint said, anger starting to build up again as he gestured wildly with his strong arms.

Natasha suddenly went stiff. "I'm not a child, Barton. You don't have to be by my side every fucking moment of the day. There are some things I'd rather do alone."

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Clint asked.

"It wasn't important." Natasha said.

"Wasn't important?" Clint yelled darkly. "Maybe not to other people, but to me? I think that information is pretty goddamn important!"

Suddenly, Natasha wasn't able to hold her angry composure anymore and Clint realized that she was probably famished.

"Nat, when's the last time you ate?" Clint asked, switching back to English since it wasn't a tender topic.

"Four this morning." Natasha stated hollowly.

"Jesus. And what did you do today?" He asked as he took in all of her injuries.

Natasha locked her eyes back to his before answering. "I needed to get mind off of everything so I went on a solo mission, without a backup team, since I wasn't even supposed to be back yet. I ended up having to fight something like thirty five guards in a stairwell."

Everyone but Clint's jaws went a little slack. Clint acted like it was nothing new, because it really wasn't.

"You need to eat." He said as he motioned for her to go back to the table. Once he noticed the actual amount of pain she was in from he ankle he added, "Don't strain yourself."

Natasha reluctantly grabbed hold of the arm he had outstretched for her to put her weight on as they walked to the rest of the team. As the two of them sat down, Clint left space at the back of his chair so Natasha could prop up her right ankle.

"Have you had that checked out yet?" Bruce asked, the first of the group to speak.

Natasha shook her head as she began to eat the pile of food on her plate.

"Would you like me to take a look at it after dinner?" He offered, hoping she wouldn't just blow him off.

"Sure, it can't hurt." Natasha said.

The rest of the meal was eaten without disruption, even Tony managed to keep his mouth shut. After Bruce checked Natasha's ankle and told her it was only a sprain, she left the living room to shower and go to sleep.

Clint's day of shooting and the fight he had with Natasha took a lot out of him, and he left not to long after his partner.

The remaining four stayed at the table, still kind of in shock from the evening's happenings.

"I don't see how they could be the most successful team at SHEILD, it looks as though they hate each other." Steve said.

"Actually, Cap, I think it's the complete opposite." Tony said as he started typing away again.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"Take a look at this." Tony said as words popped up on the table in front of the other three. "I had Jarvis translate the Russian. Look at what they were saying."

Pepper, Steve, and Bruce read through the transcript of what the assassins had said to each other, and as much as they felt like they were intruding, they couldn't look away. It was then that they realized that they would never understand Clint and Natasha, even if they desperately wanted to.

Natasha found herself back in Russia. She and maybe ten other little girls were in a gym. Her dark haired friend had lost a fight and started to cry. Ivan Petrovitch tied the little girl's arms to ropes that hung from the wall and tore off her shirt. He began whipping her, each stroke eliciting a terrifying scream from the girl who was no older than eight. All the other girls screamed and cried, horrified. Natasha stood still, not making a noise, not flinching at the sound of whip meeting flesh. Petrovitch turned to her and said, "Why can't all these other bitches be more like you, Natalia?" Natasha had been told to end the pathetic excuse for a human being later that day. She had been convinced that her dark haired friend was going to try and kill her, and would never do anything right on a mission. Nine-year-old Natalia Alianovna Romanova crept into the other little girl's room, and eliminated the competition.

"You lie and kill, in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you, and they will never go away!"

All of a sudden, Natasha was in a freezing cold basement. Her last mission hadn't gone according to plan and she was forced to go off-script. This was the day she learned that Ivan Petrovitch would rather have her dead than have her go against his instructions. She had been stripped down and tied to a metal surgical table in the middle of a white room that smelled of urine, bleach, and dried blood. She tried to free herself of the restraints, but only rubbed her wrist and ankles raw. After she had given up on trying to escape, one of the trainers walked into the room and gave her a disgusting smile. She was scared, but had been taught to never let it show. "This is your punishment you little whore." He said once he began. "Mess up again and next time, I won't be so nice." Natasha tried to ignore the pain, but her instincts overcame her control and she screamed at the top of her lungs as the man laughed at her. A laugh she would never forget.

"Monster. You're a monster. You've been killing since you were nine and you won't stop until someone stops you. Sao Paulo didn't stop you, you didn't stop yourself, even Ivan Petrovitch, the man who made you, couldn't stop you. You tell yourself you're doing good now, but you're still killing, still taking lives away from people, hurting their families, their children. You've been killing since you were nine and you won't stop until someone stops you. You're a monster. Monster." Natasha was standing in front of a mirror, hands dripping red. Not with her blood, but with the blood of all those whom she's killed. Her reflection had dead eyes. She wore a smile that looked more like a snarl. Natasha stared at her reflection in disbelief. She looked down at her own hands, and saw the very same red, flowing from her wrists. She looked back up at her reflection, who was now laughing the laugh she would never forget.

Natasha screamed. She willed herself to wake up from the terror she was enduring, but it's hold was too strong. She couldn't tell if she was screaming solely in her dream, or if everyone in the tower could hear her.

Clint had been gripped with his own silent horrors when he heard the one sound that could make his heart break. By the time he made it down to Natasha's floor, Steve was already outside her door, not sure if he should go in and try to comfort her. Bruce and Pepper stood by the elevator, horrified. Clint took note of how insanely cold it was on Natasha's floor, and figured that that was the reason her nightmares were so bad tonight. While she didn't mind the cold, it could remind her of Russia, and it only went downhill from there.

"Steve, move." Clint stated as he approached Natasha's open door. He only hesitated slightly when he saw the way Natasha's body was positioned. She wasn't screaming at the moment but Clint knew it was only a matter of time before she was gripped with fear once again.

Clint kneeled down next to Natasha's bed and called out to her softly. "Tasha, Natasha."

Natasha's reflection stopped laughing and went cold. "Tasha, Natasha." A familiar voice said. The rough outline of Clint showed up behind the reflection, he walked right past the image and out of the mirror. As he became more clear, he reached out and touched Natasha's cheek.

Clint cupped Natasha's face in his hand as he wiped away the single, small tear that had escaped.

Natasha's eyes fluttered open to look at Clint.

He smiled warmly at her. "Hey, Tash."

"Hey." She rasped, attempting to smile back, but ended up having to grip Clint's shirt and bury her face in his chest.

"You okay?" He asked as he discretely shooed Steve and the others away.

Natasha closed her eyes for a second shook her head.

"You're shivering, Tasha." Clint said as he started to rub her arms to provide warmth.

"It's cold, Clint." She said with a little glint in her eye.

"Come on." He said as he helped her up.

The two of them left her room and walked down the hallway to the stairs. The elevator hadn't yet come to pick up the other three, so Clint called out to them. "Hey Pepper, since you're still here, would you tell Tony to fix the thermostat on this floor?"

"Sure thing, Clint." Pepper responded as the elevator doors opened.

"I don't really think I'm up to climbing a flight of stairs right now." Natasha stated as they entered the stairwell.

"Alright then." Clint said before scooping her up and climbing the steps with ease.

That night, Clint and Natasha fell asleep in that familiar way they had, Natasha curled against Clint's side, with his arms wrapped around her, letting her know that she's safe. Their relationship wasn't perfect, and would probably never would be, but it was more than either of them could ever ask for.


	19. Chapter 19

wo weeks had passed since Clint and Natasha's fight in the living room, and had both been finally put back on active duty. Fury had given them a few single day missions to make sure that they had fully recovered from the Battle of Manhattan. Both Clint and Natasha were getting antsy again because they knew Fury was testing them. They were both still on internal threat watch, but as much as they hated it, they didn't think they deserved any less when it came to their track records.

Today, they would be heading out on a week long mission where they would watch their target, take out his henchmen one by one, and then bring him in for questioning. Before they were to head out though, Clint and Natasha decided to spar, since they wouldn't be doing much fighting on the majority of their assignment.

The pair battled back and forth, dodging and attacking, for a solid twenty minutes before Natasha finally pinned Clint to the mat. They had fought all around the gym and almost broke a few of the machines. Their fights weren't normally quiet, but this one was particularly loud. Pepper had gotten curious if not a little worried and decided head down to the gym and check things out.

"Aw, come on, Tasha. Can't you just let me win once?" Clint mock-whined.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I was under the impression that you didn't mind the view from below."

"Well if you're going to pin me down you might want to do a better job," Clint said before flipping them over so he had Natasha pinned to the mat, "Or you might end up in my position." He ended with a smirk.

Natasha looked at him with a hint of a smile. "Who said I didn't want to be here?"

Clint squinted his eyes at her. "You planned this, didn't you." He stated more than asked.

Natasha looked away innocently. "Maybe." She said before meeting his eyes again.

Clint smiled widely and murmured, "Devious," before bringing his lips down to hers.

Just like in their sparring session, they battled for dominance in the kiss, wiping out almost all other thought processes with the intensity of it. Natasha bowed her body against Clint's and he released her wrists from his grip so he could thread one hand through her curly locks. He was about to let three little words escape his lips when Natasha bit down on his lower lip and he ended up moaning in pleasure instead. Natasha freed her left leg from under Clint's and brought it up around his waist. What she did next though, he was not expecting.

Natasha quickly flipped them over again and had Clint pinned down for good this time and broke the kiss, however much she didn't want to. She had heard light footsteps coming down the long hallway towards the gym.

Clint looked up at his partner, confused.

"We have company." She explained.

Just as Pepper was about to knock on the doorframe of the gym to alert the assassins of her presence, she heard Natasha's voice call out.

"Come in, Pepper."

The CEO was taken a little off guard but remained in her professional composure as she walked in to the room. She had heard loud noises when she was on her way to the floor, but once she stepped out of the elevator, she heard low voices and then nothing. Then she noticed that Natasha still had Clint pinned to the mat when she rounded the corner and asked genuinely, "Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Clint and Natasha shared a look for a split second before Natasha responded. "No, we were just finishing training."

Clint sighed ever so slightly as Natasha got off of him and fixed her hair nonchalantly.

"What can we do for you?" Clint asked as he stood up.

"Tony has 'requested your presence' for movie night tonight." Pepper said, using air quotes where necessary.

"Sorry, no can do, Pepper." Clint said as he picked up his bag and handed Natasha hers. "We'll be gone all week."

"Both of you?" Pepper inquired. She knew that they were partners and both worked for SHEILD, but she didn't really understand the ins-and-outs of their job. No one did, really.

"Yeah, Fury stuck me with this one again." Clint said with a smile, knowing Natasha would have a response to that.

"I won't hesitate to hurt you, Barton." Natasha said, a bit more seriously than Pepper was expecting. She was still getting used to Natasha, after having worked with Natalie for so long.

"You wouldn't dare, Romanoff." Clint quipped back.

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'll let you two get back to preparations then." Pepper said with a warm smile.

Clint turned to Natasha with a suddenly pointed look on his face. He was starting to warm up to the team, but Natasha was still distant. He noticed that the others were treating her differently than they were him, and he knew Natasha didn't like that at all. She didn't want to be treated as a spectacle, or someone that her teammates were afraid to approach for simple conversation. He urged her to ask Pepper to help her get ready, even though he knew she could very well do it herself.

Natasha nodded slightly at him before turning to Pepper. "Actually, if you're not too busy, there's something I could use your help with."

Pepper appeared to be slightly surprised at the other woman's offer. "Of course!"

Natasha turned back to Clint. "I'll let you know when we're done so you can come to my floor and go over everything again before we head out."

"Yes, Agent." Clint said, and winked when Pepper wasn't looking.

Natasha rolled her eyes and walked with Pepper to her floor, leaving Clint to tell Jarvis to erase the footage and go get ready.

After Natasha and Pepper entered Natasha's room, Pepper spoke. "So, what do you need my help with?"

Natasha dug in her closet for a moment before pulling out a long, blonde, wig. "This." Natasha said dryly.

Pepper stayed silent while Natasha elaborated.

"My cover is someone who will be seen, but no matter how hard SHELD works, the press all over the world is leaking pictures of me and Clint. It's still our job to go undercover, but now we just have to work harder to do so."

Natasha pulled out a dress and a professional makeup kit from the back of her closet and set them on the bed. "I figure we'll do the wig last?" Natasha asked, letting Pepper have some input.

"Sounds good, would you like me to step out while you get dressed?" Pepper asked.

"No, that's okay, I'm going to shower and change quick, shouldn't take more than ten minutes." She said before walking into the bathroom.

"Must be nice." Pepper said under her breath as Natasha walked away.

Natasha smiled a bit at that.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Natasha exited the bathroom in her bra and underwear and walked over to the bed to put on her dress.

Pepper seemed a little stunned when Natasha walked past her, but once she could see Natasha's back, there was an audible gasp.

Natasha steeled her face before turning to the other woman, who had both of her hands up to her mouth, and a look of sadness strewn across her face. Natasha realized that Pepper was going to see her in a different light now that she's seen the scars, well, the physical ones at least. Natasha's body was covered with scars, though her arms, face, and lower legs only had smaller ones that were easier to cover up. Her torso however, was littered with marks ranging from scratches, to bullet wounds, to the still-angry scar on her back. Some of the marks were obviously recent, but there were some that looked like they had been there forever.

"Oh my God," Pepper started.

"Please, don't." Natasha said, cutting her off. "These come with the job." She said, as if it were the only explanation needed.

"Then why do you keep doing it?" Pepper asked, trying to figure out why someone would almost willingly let themselves be hurt like that.

Natasha glanced away for a moment and put more walls up so Pepper couldn't see right through her. "It's all I've ever known, really." She said in a strong voice.

It took a moment for Pepper to take it all in before she asked, "Do they bother you?"

Natasha needed no time to think about that, she already knew her answer. "Most of them, yeah, others are just kind of there, but some of them tell a story." Her hand automatically reached up to the scar just below her left collar bone. "I'd be dead if some of these never happened."

"What are they all from?"

"A lot are knives from close combat, some bullet wounds, even one from an arrow."

Pepper's face gave away her unspoken question.

Natasha nodded. "Yeah, as much as I don't want to admit it, Hawkeye got a hit in on me, once." She said, trying to lighten the mood like Clint always did.

Pepper was more vigilant than people thought her to be. "What's the story behind that one?" She said, motioning to where Natasha's hand laid.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Natasha's face as she began. "I got this one before I worked for SHEILD. My job then was, well, not good to say the least. SHEILD wanted me taken out, so they sent Clint on that mission. They had sent other agents before, but they had all failed." Natasha glanced down, not wanting to remember the people she had to kill to stay alive. "I wasn't afraid of death, no one can be in this line of work, but I didn't want to die before I got to do something that was actually good. Clint saw that, he later told me, and decided to make a different call. I guess he figured I wouldn't go down without a fight, so he let one fly. Coulson told him he missed my heart, which was uncharacteristic of him, he always hits his target. Clint told him that that's not what he was aiming for."

Natasha didn't tell her everything, and Pepper could tell, but it was a step. Not many people knew that story, but Natasha felt like it was okay to talk to Pepper.

Pepper sensed that she didn't really want to talk about that kind of thing anymore, so she motioned towards the dress laying on the bed. "You got this too?" She asked with a warm smile, telling Natasha that her secret is safe.

Natasha nodded and picked it up.

Natasha's dress had a v neck line, hugged her curves, and had crossing fabric in the front that was highlighted with jewels at the bottom. Natasha liked the dress, what what really drew her to it when she bought it was the color. It was gray, but also with the slightest hint of blue, just like the eyes of someone she knew very well.

Within a matter of thirty seconds, Natasha had the dress on and zipped up, and was sitting down to do her make up. She used three colors of eye shadow to create a smokey eye look, applied foundation, mascara, blush, and red lipstick, all in five minutes flat. As she turned to Pepper, she noticed that the CEO had a look of disbelief on her face.

Pepper finally found the ability to speak after recovering from her shock from everything that happened in the past fifteen minutes. "What are you, Wonder Woman?"

A look of amusement crossed Natasha's features. "It'd be very awkward if i were."

Pepper chuckled then picked up the wig and Natasha looked at it with a straight face. "Let's get this over with."

Once Pepper had gotten all of Natasha's real hair into a net and gotten the wig on, Natasha brushed through it lightly so it looked natural.

"If I may ask," Pepper started, "What is your cover?"

"A cabaret singer, Clint will play piano and sing with me." She said as she finished gathering her things together.

"You sing?" Pepper asked. She didn't peg Natasha as the vocal type.

"My cover wouldn't be convincing otherwise." Natasha stated as she was getting into her mission mindset.

Natasha wasn't facing the door, but Pepper noticed her relax a bit when Clint stopped in the doorway. He took one look at the back of Natasha's now blonde head and said, "Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong room." He had just ducked out of the doorway when Natasha called out to him, back still turned to where he was.

"No time for games, Barton. We have a ton of stuff we still need to go over before leaving." She said before turning around and facing him.

Clint sauntered back into the room, too chipper for anyone's liking. "As you wish, Goldielocks."

In much less time than Pepper was comfortable with, Natasha had a gun in one hand and pointed it at Clint's head. "One more remark, Barton, and I swear."

Much to Peppers surprise, Clint just took the gun from Natasha's hand, and put it in the holster under his jacket.

"Thanks." He said after the gun, that actually was his, was safely hidden away.

"No problem." Natasha responded.

"Well, I think Tony's starting the movie soon so I'm gonna head on up. I'll see you two, in a week?" Pepper said.

"Give or take." Clint said matter-of-factly. Both he and Natasha were now in their mission mindsets and didn't care about common courtesy as Pepper showed herself out.

Pepper headed upstairs where the rest of the team, still minus Thor, was waiting for her while Clint and Natasha prepped to leave.

"No luck with the resident assassins?" Tony asked.

"No." Pepper answered as she sat down next to him. "They'll be gone for a week."

"What on earth are they doing?" Tony said as he turned to look is girlfriend in the eyes.

"They have jobs too, you know." Pepper stated. "They're not just Avengers."

"Well you spent an awfully long time down there for them not to be coming up." Tony inquired innocently.

"Yeah, actually, Natasha asked for my help with something." Pepper stated confidently. She knew that Natasha didn't do that often.

"What did she need help with?" Tony asked quietly, trying to figure out what it could be.

All of a sudden there was a voice from behind them all. "That's none of your business, Stark."

Steve, Pepper, Bruce, and Tony all turned around to see Natasha with blonde hair, and Clint with a goatee.

"What the hell did you do to her, Pepper?" Tony joked.

"I think it's pretty obvious, Tony." Pepper said.

Tony gave both Clint and Natasha a long once-over, then spoke again. "Well...it's, different."

"I think she looks nice." Steve said with an almost too-friendly-smile.

"You two look elegant." Bruce added.

"We didn't come here fishing for compliments." Natasha started before she was interrupted by a certain billionaire.

"Even with blonde hair you're still fiery as ever, Little Red."

Pepper slapped Tony on the arm, realizing that whatever the two spies came up there for wad important.

"We came up here," Natasha began again, "because we're being sent on a mission."

"As is turns out, there are a few more guards than originally thought," Clint picked up, "and you guys on being put on hold to join us."

"Though the likelihood of the situation getting out of mine and Clint's control is slim." Natasha added coldly.

Clint shot her a look telling her to be nice, and she responded with one that said 'I don't really play well with others.'

"You're only on hold for one night, though. And that's Friday night, when the most guards are expected to show up. You'll be in the audience in disguise as well, and we'll let you know via communicators whether we need you or not." Clint finished the spur-of-the-moment briefing and began to walk away with his partner.

"Wait, audience for what?" Tony asked.

"No time to explain." Natasha said as she slid a manila folder across the floor. "Just follow the instructions."

Clint and Natasha started their mission on a Sunday night, and relatively small crowds had shown up in the bar they were performing at in the West Village in New York City. But tonight was Friday, and there would be many more people attending the show. The pair had pin pointed their target and started to take out the guards that he wouldn't notice. Tonight, however, he would be surrounded. There was supposed to be a deal of important information pertaining to government matters, and their mark, Richard Bellos, would be heavily armed and protected. Clint and Natasha would do their performance as usual, with Natasha pretending to sing directly to Rodgers, and after the show was over, they were to take out any necessary guards to get to Rodgers, and hand him over into SHEILD custody.

Tony Stark sat in the back of the room where it was dark, since he had the most recognizable face. Steve Rogers sat off to the right in a nice suit, but with a hat and facial hair that SHEILD had provided him. Bruce Banner, who wasn't exactly sure why he was there, sat closest to the front and didn't really need a disguise, since no one really knew what his real face looked like. The three men, plus Clint and Natasha, all had their comms set up, and to the surprise of no one, Tony was the first to speak.

"So, what are we waiting so patiently out here for, Romanoff?"

Natasha was just putting the finishing touches on her make-up when Tony's voice came through, and she put her hand up to her ear. "Can you just keep quiet for one more minute Stark? You'll see soon enough."

Clint was walking by Natasha's dressing room and signaled that it was time to go. She nodded and followed suit. The two of them stepped on stage just after the curtain had been raised and there were gasps from the crowd, and through the comms. Clint was dressed in a crisp tux, while Natasha wore a deep red dress that was accent by her red lipstick and light blonde hair. The others thought that Clint and Natasha were just undercover as patrons to the bar, not the entertainment. After Clint had taken his place at the piano and Natasha stepped up to the microphone, Clint started to play the opening to Summertime.

The crowd desperately waiting for Natasha to start singing, and wasn't disappointed when she did. Her voice was low and husky, but still smooth and feminine enough to be pleasing. She sang the first two verses, and then Clint had a piano solo, and then sang the next two verses. If it weren't surprising enough that Natasha was a good singer, Clint also had a set of pipes on him. His voice was rough and soothing, making most of the women in the bar swoon. When it was Natasha's turn to take over again, she looked straight into the eyes of their target. Bellos had a date with him, but he had long forgotten about the homely looking woman to his right. He was totally entranced in Natasha's game, wrapped up in her web.

A bassist came out on stage after Clint and Natasha had finished their first few songs, and they started to play Cry Me A River. The theme for the night was 1940's jazz, so they were doing mostly Ella Fitzgerald songs, and Natasha had to close her eyes and focus to be able to sing the opening runs. Clint knew the song well so he didn't need to look at the piano, and instead discretely looked at Natasha whenever he could, and was almost as wrapped up in her performance as their target was. If it weren't for the fact that this was a mission, he knew he would have a much harder to concentrate.

After all the songs had been sung, Clint went back to his dressing room to stock up on weapons, while Natasha went out to work the room, and bring Richard Bellos back to her dressing room, presumably for a bit of fun. She sauntered on over to the bar, catching the eye of nearly everyone in the room. Bellos followed her there as was expected, and began complimenting her endlessly.

Natasha had enough of the petty conversation and decided to move things along. She looked up at Bellos through her long lashes and said, "You know, pretty as it may be, this dress is pretty uncomfortable."

Bellos smiled down at her in a way that he though would make her swoon. "Oh yeah? How about we get you into something more comfortable then?"

Natasha leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Meet me in my dressing room in five minutes?" She said in a soft, sultry voice.

Bellos seemed to think about that for a split second, then made his decision. "My associate won't be here for another hour, so I don't see why not." He winked at her and motioned for three of his guards to follow her an make sure that his 'muse' and he wouldn't be disturbed.

As Natasha walked away, she pretended to be fixing her hair to activate the earpiece for long term use. She discretely added, "I got three coming with me, Hawkeye."

"Got it." He said quickly.

As soon as they made it to her dressing room, Natasha closed the door quickly to cut her dress so it was easier to fight in, took off her wig and hair net, and loaded on her weapons. She and Clint pulled the three guards into the room and took them down in lightning speed. They hid the unconscious men just before Bellos knocked on the door.

"Come in." Natasha called out seductively, though her face was steeled for a take down.

As soon as Bellos walked into the room he realized that he had been tricked. Clint was soon pinning him to the ground and injecting the man with a sedative.

Clint turned to Natasha, who had realized that one of the guards had sent out a distress signal before being knocked out. "I have to get him to the extraction team, I'll be back in five, you got this?"

Natasha nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna take it to the alley so people don't start to notice in here."

As she walked to the door, she heard Clint say something to her before he disappeared with the unconscious Bellos. "Go get 'em, Tasha."

Natasha got to the alley, where there were already about twenty guards waiting for her. She was able to sneak up on quite a few but more just kept coming. In the midst of dodging blows and knocking out men three times her size, she spoke into her communicator.

"Hey Cap? Alley, now."

"Yes ma'am." Steve said as he discretely exited the dining room and ran to where Natasha was. He immediately started fighting against the enemy along side Natasha, though his style was much different than her partner's.

When Natasha started shooting off rounds from her silenced gun, Steve shot her an odd look.

"Part of the job description, Cap." She said simply. The only way that they were getting out of this shit storm was if they could take out opponents from far away as well as up close. Just like most of their missions, that meant that some lives would have to end.

After a few minutes of fighting, two men in front of Natasha and Steve dropped, both with arrows in their backs.

"About time, Barton." Natasha said as Clint came running towards them.

He and Natasha stood almost back to back while Steve covered their side. The trio fought hard and the fight was even more efficient now that Strike Team Delta was working together.

"Fury said to get our asses out of here as soon as possible...People are starting to notice what's going on...We can't afford to get caught." Clint said in between shooting arrows and throwing punches.

"Especially by the press." Natasha added under her breath as she took down one of the few remaining men.

Even when they were done, there was no time to rest, Steve told Bruce and Tony to get back to the tower with him while Natasha and Clint escaped separately.

Clint hit a setting on his quiver, and Natasha wrapped her arms around his waist, knowing what was coming next. He shot a grappling hook to the roof of a nearby building and the two went soaring into the night sky, hidden by darkness.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that." Steve said as he ran away from the scene.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so this is the second to last chapter, I'll be posting chapter 21 later on tonight because I'm afraid if I don't I'll forget again. Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you enjoy the last two chapters!

Tony was curious. Clint and Natasha spent a lot of time by themselves and neither of them were really social with the others. But was he was really curious about was exactly what happened in the gym. He knew that they erased footage, and Pepper had told him what she saw, or rather what she thought might have happened.

Tony ran into the living room of the tower, over-ecstatic as he usually was when he wanted to find something out. "Where are Barton and Romanoff?"

Steve glanced up from the newspaper he was reading after having been startled by the billionaire. "In the gym last I heard."

"Thanks, Cap." Tony said before determinately walking towards the video control room of the tower.

Bruce looked at Steve, confused. "What's he up to now?"

"I'm not sure I want to know." Steve replied.

Once Tony had gotten to the desired room, he sat down and clapped his hands one time, muttering something unintelligible to himself.

"Jarvis, pull up the video feed from the gym." He called out.

"Yes, sir." The AI replied. "May I ask what you're searching for, sir?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, Jarvis." Tony said. But he was distracted.

He was watching Clint and Natasha fight like he never thought possible. They were going back and forth hitting and blocking, with Natasha flipping over Clint's arm at the right moments so as to not hurt him, but also gain an advantage. Clint seemed like the physically stronger of the two but Natasha was obviously more agile, ducking and flipping more often than Tony thought necessary. Tony sat, waiting, watching. He had to admit that watching the two assassins duke it out was interesting, especially now that one neither of them were trying to kill each other, but he figured that this couldn't be the reason that they felt the need to erase the footage.

Soon enough, Natasha ended up pinning Clint, but that wasn't surprising. What was surprising, however, is what happened next.

Natasha relaxed her body from the fighting stance she had been in before, and put most of her weight on Clint's torso, locking him between her body and the floor.

Tony sat forward, anticipating what would happen next, though he never really thought it would.

Clint and Natasha seemed to be speaking for a bit, but they spoke too low for Jarvis to pick it up. All of a sudden, Natasha dipped her face lower slowly, releasing Clint's wrists from her grip. He brought his hands to rest on her waist.

Tony didn't think that the Natasha he knew now would let anyone touch her like that. He had her play with part of his suit at a party when she worked for him as Natalie Rushman, but she was much different then. Now she was strong-minded, and strong-willed, well, she was herself and not playing a part. She outwitted the god of mischief for christ's sake! But in this moment, she wasn't really any of those things, she was in the gym, about to kiss another Avenger. Tony brought his attention back the screen and away from his daydreamy thoughts.

Clint shook his head at something the Natasha had said, and quickly rolled them over so he was no longer pinned to the mat, but she was. He brought his face down to Natasha's and didn't hesitate when he kissed her. Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Then, just as soon as it had started, it all ended. Clint got up and walked over to his bag, pulled out his phone, and listened. Once he was done on his call, he looked to Natasha, who seemed to understand what happened on the other line without having to ask. The two of them got their bags together and were just about to leave when Natasha said something to the room.

Sure enough, the video file of what just happened went black and disappeared forever.

Tony raced out of the room and made his way to the office of the CEO.

He barged into the room, unannounced. "Pepper!"

Pepper put down the pen she was using to do the mound of paperwork on her desk and looked at Tony disapprovingly. "What do you want, Tony?"

Tony sauntered over to Pepper's desk. "Well for starters, you'll never guess what I just caught the two scariest people living here doing."

Clint and Natasha were flying a quinjet to Tel Aviv. Tel Aviv was starting to become a more technological center in the world, and some hot-headed scientist who used to be a professor at New York University's portal campus in the city thought he could create a serum like the one coursing through Captain America's veins. SHEILD would have none of that. Maria Hill, Clint and Natasha's temporary handler, sent then in to retrieve the formula and destroy any equipment the man could use to re-create the serum. They weren't going to kill him, but he would remain on SHIELD's radar for the rest of his life.

"You remember how to speak Arabic?" Clint asked, just to say something to break the silence.

"Never forgot, Clint." Natasha said and looked at him, asking why he felt the need to confirm her ability to speak the language.

"Just seems difficult." He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Just focus on flying this plane, Hawkeye."

"I could fly this with my eyes closed, Widow." Clint said as he looked her directly in the eye.

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the duties of co-piloting. "I'd rather you not."

Clint sighed dramatically and went back to looking out the windshield. "As you wish, мой паук." (My spider.)

"أحيانا أنا لا أعرف لماذا أنا طرح معك" (Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you.) Natasha said back in perfect Arabic.

"Now, you know I have no idea what you said, right?" Clint stated.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want you to know what I say sometimes?" Natasha said with a raised eyebrow.

Clint shook his head at her. "Sneaky." He said accusingly.

"It's our job to be sneaky, Barton."

"Yeah, Yeah." He waived off.

Clint and Natasha remained silent until they touched down at the SHIELD base just outside the city. The two had already dropped of their bags at the less-than-perfect hotel they were staying at by the time they showed up at the building.

Clint was going into the facility dressed as a maintenance worker and Natasha was going undercover as a new receptionist. The first day was pure surveillance, with both of them pinpointing the location of the formula on separate occasions just to be sure.

Natasha felt like this was reminiscent of her job at Stark Industries, save for the annoying billionaire running around everywhere. Clint was reminded of a remedial job he held as a teenager.

The second day comprised of Clint "cleaning" the lab, riding it of any contaminants, and subsequently the formula. He had no need to sneak into the lab per say, but he had to make quick work of the password protected case that encompassed the serum. While he was mopping the floor beside the case, he discreetly opened up the small door and swapped the vile with a fake. Luckily, no one else was in the lab with him, but Natasha still erased the footage to be safe.

"نعم يا سيدي ... وأنا أفهم يا سيدي ... شكرا لك يا سيدي ... وقد لطيفة اليوم." (Yes sir...I understand sir...Thank you sir...Have a nice day.) Natasha was just finishing up a conversation on the phone with a potential hire when Clint walked up to her. It was the end of both of their shifts on the third day, and that was the day that they would destroy the scientist's lab.

Clint shot her a look that asked, 'You ready?'

Natasha looked back at him, 'Always.'

The pair walked down the empty hallways of the building with the tools they needed on Clint's janitor cart. Natasha had already disabled all cameras in the building and set them on loop so as to not be suspicious. She swiped her key card and the two entered the room and began their work.

They took all the smaller things that they could fit on the cart to be analyzed by SHIELD scientists, and all the larger things were destroyed by incineration. The lab they were in was in a back corner of the building, practically untouched by other rooms, so Clint and Natasha had been told to simply blow it up. Once the place was rigged, Natasha turned to Clint.

"You get out of here first, load the stuff into the SHIELD van parked out front. I'll set everything off."

Clint nodded. "I'll let you know when I'm clear." He said, pointing to the comm in his ear before smiling and heading out the door.

Natasha waiting for Clint's signal for a minute, and when she got it, she hit the detonation button and ran out of the room. She was just about to make it out of the building when a voice and a hand stopped her.

"Ах, это должна была быть моя работа, но мне кажется, Черная Вдова была избил меня к нему." (Ah, this was supposed to be my job, but it seems the Black Widow has beat me to it.) A deep voice said from behind her.

Natasha froze. She knew that voice. She knew that voice very well. She knew it too well to force herself to turn around and face the man.

"Natalia, моя дорогая Natalia, пожалуйста, посмотри на меня." (Natalia, my dearest Natalia, please look at me.) The voice begged.

"нет." (No.) She replied harshly.

The man reached out and touched her hair in the gentlest manner he could muster. "Почему вы изменили ваши волосы, Natalia? Вы знаете, сколько я любил его раньше." (Why did you change your hair, Natalia? You know how much I loved it before.)

"То есть не ваше дело, Alexei." (That is none of your business, Alexei.) Natasha responded coldly.

Suddenly, there was a voice on the other end of Natasha's communicator. "Natasha, should I come in there?" Clint said, a little worried about what was going on. Natasha hadn't turned her comm on for hands-free use yet, and she hadn't come out of the building either.

"Может и нет, но то, что мое дело, почему вы оставили нас, Natalia." (Maybe not, but what is my business is why you left us, Natalia.) Alexei Shostakov sneered right behind Natasha's ear.

Natasha quickly whipped around to face Alexei, discreetly turning on her invisible comm. "Нет, это только для меня." (No, that is only for me.) She said to Alexei, but also to let Clint know that he should not enter the facility. If the Red Guardian wanted her, so be it, but she would not let them hurt Clint.

"Tasha?" Clint asked quietly through the comm, but his question was soon answered by a rumbling voice.

"Ты оставил нас всех разбитым сердцем домой. Мы оплакивал потерю наших величайших продукта. Я оплакивал потерю моей женой." (You left us all broken hearted back home. We mourned the loss of our greatest product. I mourned the loss of my wife.) Alexei stated as he moved to cup Natasha's cheek, much like he had done years ago.

"Я никогда не была твоей женой." (I was never your wife.) Natasha spat at him before forcing his hand away.

The man stepped back, feigning hurt. "Do you not remember?" He said, switching to English. "Do you have no memories of our love, of what I taught you?"

Natasha's mind flashed to the memories she had of her marriage to Alexei, how she felt so in love, only to have her heart ripped out when he "died". When she learned that it had all been a trick, she vowed to never let herself be so weak as to feel like that again.

"I remember that you taught me about weakness and fragility, but what we had was not love." Natasha stated, straight-faced.

"You and I remember things differently then. I remember how happy you were, how you would let your guard down around me, you lover, your husband." Alexei said sweetly before slamming Natasha up against a wall. "I remember how good I made you feel in bed at night, when I would touch you, how much you loved that, my Natalia." He sneered as he let his hands travel all over Natasha's body.

Natasha pulled a knife out and held it to his throat as fast as only she can do. "I was never yours."

Alexei took a calm step backwards and raised his hands in the air. "Now, Natalia, there's no need for that."

"Oh?" Natasha mock-questioned.

Alexei gave her a sickening smile. "I'm not here to kill you, Natalia, I'm here to take you home where you belong."

Now it was Natasha's turn to turn the tables on the man. "Now, Alexei," She started as she walked over and placed a hand on his chest, "You know I can't just leave with you." She looked up at him through her lashes in a devilish way, much like he had done to her moments ago.

"Perhaps not willingly." Alexei said quickly as he pulled a knife on her and cut her arm.

Natasha simply stared at him. "And you vowed to never hurt me."

"You should've known to not trust me, Natalia." He said heatedly. He had changed from the over affectionate former lover of minutes ago to a cold-hearted assassin sent to get back the Red Room's best asset. "Or should I say, Natasha. Isn't that what you go by now?"

When Natasha didn't answer his question, he punched her in the face. "You changed your name so we couldn't find you, so you could have a fresh start. You let that poor excuse for a partner call you by a fake name?" SMACK "You lie to him and yet he comes back to you day after day, and for what? Certainly not for anything like I had you for. The only reason he puts up with you is because it's his job. He has no reason to keep you around other than the efficiency we so successfully instilled in you. I bet he doesn't even like you." SMACK "He's waiting until you're most a risk and he's going to take you out, just like his original mission was until he decided to take you from us. He kidnapped you and you think of him in higher regard than Ivan? He did the same thing. He hurt you and took you for his own benefit. Now you think that just because you work for the Americans that you're good?" SMACK "You'll never be good, Natalia, you were built to kill and trained to restrain yourself from petty human pleasures. No matter what you try to convince yourself you feel about him, or anyone else, it's false. You know very well that you can't trust anyone, you can't even trust yourself."

When Natasha readied herself for a hit on Alexei, he grabbed her arm and twisted it hard. "I trained you, Natalia, I know all of your tricks. You think you can take me down? Ha! I'd like to see you try."

Again, Clint's voice came through Natasha's comm, "Natasha, please let me come help." He pleaded. If it were up to him, he would have already been in there, beating the man who hurt Natasha to a pulp. But it's not up to him. Natasha has said no, and Maria Hill and the extraction team were holding him back.

This time, Natasha answered directly to Clint since she knew that Alexei knew he was there already. She looked to the side as she answered her partner's question.

"No, Barton. You stay outside. The Red Room doesn't want me dead, I'll be able to hold my own. I can't say the same for you. If you walk in here you're signing your own death certificate." She said in a professional voice.

"Tash, are you sure?" Clint asked, not wanting Natasha to have to go through that alone.

Natasha internally rolled her eyes at Clint's worry. "Yes, Barton, I'm sure. Promise me that you'll stay outside. I can't have you come in here and get killed," She dropped her voice to a whisper, "I can't have your blood in my ledger."

Clint stayed silent and Natasha took that as agreement, at least for now.

Natasha turned back to Alexei with a look of submission in her eyes. She knew that she was all he wanted. She would sacrifice herself for Clint and the rest of the agents outside. She couldn't let them die because she felt too righteous to go back to where she came from for the punishment she so rightly deserved.

"Promises, Natalia?" Alexei inquired. "You have changed more than I thought you would. You have become weak. You don't deserve to be called the Black Widow anymore. But I can change that, I can restore the honor you have stripped yourself of if you just come back home." He reached a hand out to Natasha, who looked utterly broken, and she took it.

Alexei, no longer able to restrain himself, leaned forwards and kissed Natasha on the mouth. She let the memories of the past seep into the foreground.

Once Alexei broke away, he looked at Natasha and she saw devious intent in his eyes behind the soft cover they took. She let nothing but her old self show in her eyes. She needed Alexei to believe he broke her, got her back to how she was. It was her only chance of living any longer. She knew that if he saw anything else in her eyes he wouldn't hesitate to kill her on the spot, or even drug her and take her back to Russia for Ivan to deal with.

Alexei saw nothing that Natasha didn't want him to see. He took both of her hands and brought them behind her back like handcuffs, and started walking her towards the other end of the building.

Natasha walked along like a dog being led on a leash. She obeyed every twist and turn her old trainer guided her through, memorizing the patterns of the hallways. Neither of them spoke on their way to where ever they were going, and the only sounds Natasha could hear were the scraping of Alexei's massive boots on the ground, and Clint's steady breathing.

'He's still alive.' She thought as she walked along. 'There's no one there to kill him as soon as they get me away. He's safe.' She tried to convince herself.

Natasha recognized that she and Alexei were nearing the end of the last corridor so she decided to make one last move to get away. She had managed to convince him that she wanted to go back "home," but she wasn't able to convince herself that going back there was better than death. She knew throughout her whole being that she would rather die fighting than go back to whatever awaited her in the Red Room.

She grabbed Alexei's wrists in her strong hands and pulled them while she kicked her leg around to connect with his face. Alexei hadn't gone down, and she hadn't expected him to, but he stumbled. That was all she needed. She put all the energy and anger she had left into taking down one of the men who made her into a monster.

She pulled another knife out and slashed at her captor. She left gashes and scratches, all the while preventing him from reaching for one of his many guns. She had been wearing a pencil skirt and form-fitting top that day and had no space for anything but knives.

"I was wrong about you, Natalia." Alexei managed to get in between defenses. "These movements are new." The words he used should have sounded impressed, or frightened, but the way they fell out of his mouth was more of an accepted challenge.

Natasha grabbed one of his guns, only to have it quickly knocked out of her hand by a hard punch to her shoulder.

Using a last ditch hope against one of only three people in this world who have a fighting chance at ending her life, she started to run away. Alexei ran after her and she stopped, turning around and jumping at the last second, giving him no time to react. Natasha hurled herself at Alexei and used his momentum to wrap her legs around his throat while he was standing. Alexei tried to pry Natasha from his neck, but he had never been able to do that. Natasha gingerly placed her hands on his head, and he knew what that placement meant.

"I'll see you in hell." Natasha said before she twisted his head around to an obscene angle, hearing the vertebrae in his neck crack one by one as the life left his eyes.

She leapt off the shoulders of the man she had thought about killing so many times and sat on the floor. She had used all the energy she had to fight the man who taught her how, and she didn't think she had enough to get out of the maze of a building. She didn't think so until she heard a familiar voice in her ear.

"Natasha?" Clint asked, sounding more worried than ever. He wasn't sure if Natasha's words to Alexei had been while she was taking him out, or if they were a way to get to him before he ended her life.

"Natasha?" He asked again, louder this time.

"I'm here." Natasha said after a moment. "He's dead. I'm here." She repeated, as if trying to reassure herself of the fact.

"Okay." Clint said, relief heavy in his voice. "Hill wants you out here ASAP for treatment."

"You heard all that, huh?" Natasha said.

Clint laughed humorlessly, he appreciated Natasha's effort to lighten the mood. "Yeah. They want the body too, you know, for identification purposes. Think you can handle that?"

"I suppose so." Natasha answered as she pulled her own bloody and beaten body from the ground before lifting Alexei's over her shoulder. He was heavy, and she could barely support her own weight, but the sooner she got out of this building, the better.

"Hey Tasha?" Clint whispered.

"Yeah Clint?" Natasha said between deep breaths.

"You know none of what he said is true, right? I don't just keep you around because it's my job, and I would never want to hurt you like he did. You know that right?" He asked, still whispering. Natasha knew that the rest of the team hadn't heard what had happened, and Clint knew she wanted to keep it that way.

"Yeah Clint, I know." Was all she could manage. She wanted to say more, but for one, she was out of breath, and two, she didn't really know how.

After the longest five minutes of Clint's life, he finally saw Natasha's small frame emerge from the door, engulfed by the body of a man who had to be at least six foot five. She immediately dropped his body on the ground once it was in sight of the extraction team and walked over to the van where Clint, Hill, and a medical team were sitting.

"Job well done, and then some, agents." Hill stated as she started to pull up paperwork on her tablet. "Once you're done being treated, we'll debrief on the plane."

Clint and Natasha both nodded, both just happy that they're both alive.

When they had arrived back at the tower, everyone noticed that Natasha was in far worse condition than Clint. She had bandages all over her, including one on her face, and she was on crutches. She had nearly broken her ankle and knee jumping down from Alexei's neck, and only stressed the joints further by carrying his body throughout the building.

It had disgusted her to be so close to him when he was alive, but him being dead was another thing. A lifeless being made of flesh and bone, slung over her shoulder. She should have just dragged him through the dirt. He didn't deserve any better.

Natasha was sitting on the couch with her leg propped up at an impossibly high angle since her knee was also swollen.

Bruce had come by earlier to check on her wounds, and asked her if there's anything else he could do for her. She said no, but he wasn't really expecting anything else.

Steve had brought her a glass of water, and she appreciated the gesture in the moment.

Pepper had offered her a blanket, but Natasha politely turned it down, "I'm Russian, I don't really fell cold all too often." Was her excuse.

Even Tony had come by to offer her help. Under any other circumstance, she would have made fun of him for the gesture, or even pulled a knife on him, if only to see what would happen, but she was getting really tired of people trying to do things for her.

She had never been one to ask for help, or need anyone's help really, and now that she had killed one of the men who crafted her into a killing machine, she didn't want any extra attention. She was already getting too much of that back at base, and she didn't want to be cooped up with people who were only going to treat her like she was going to break if she did anything on her own.

What really got her though, was when they were all getting ready to sit down to the first team dinner in over a month. Pepper had just put the food on the table and everyone was taking their seats. Natasha was taking longer than usual, but she saw no reason why she couldn't get there on her own.

Clint came over to her and offered his help.

Natasha shot him a stern look. He didn't back down.

"Let me help you." Clint said.

Natasha was determined to move around without people holding her up every second. "I've been hurt worse in the past and still gotten around just fine."

"I know," Clint started, "I just thought..." He trailed off.

Natasha was standing by his side next to the couch, her weight supported by the crutches. "Just thought what, Clint?" Natasha asked.

"I uh...with everything he said, I thought you wouldn't treat me the same." He whispered. He didn't want the team to hear, but he didn't want to make Natasha travel further than absolutely necessary to talk.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked in the same low tone.

Clint took a deep breath. "He was right. I hurt you and took you because I thought it was the right thing to do. I took you away from your life, just like Petrovitch did."

Natasha shook her head. "You're wrong. Ivan Petrovitch took me from my family, I had a good life, I think. You saved me from an endless circle of hell that would only stop when I died."

Clint shot her a weak smile, which she reciprocated in her own special way, but she dropped it when Clint looked like he wasn't going to let her walk.

"I can make it from here to the table fine, Clint." Natasha said sternly, a polar opposite emotion from the one she had just worn on her face.

Clint still didn't stand down. Neither did Natasha.

"Please don't treat me like a child, or like a broken doll, Clint. You're the one person I can count on to not treat me differently after something like that." She stated.

"I know, I was just worried." He said back.

"Worried? I thought we talked about this. I can take care of myself, I think I proved that yesterday." Natasha said a little more heatedly than she meant, but she wasn't able to control her anger very well after her encounter.

"I'm not allowed to worry about you? Isn't worry the reason you didn't let me come in after you?" Clint countered.

"That's different." Natasha said, trying to hide any emotion she doesn't want anyone else to see.

"How? Tell me how that's different, Natasha." Clint's patience had been tested too far yesterday, and he couldn't hold back this conversation much longer.

Natasha spoke like her answer was like the solution to two plus two. "I don't want to be the reason you die. He would have kept me alive long enough to revel in that had he killed you."

"And you don't think that's worry?" Clint almost yelled.

"Fine. Then what do you worry about?" Natasha yelled back quickly.

"I worry about losing you!" Clint said just as rapidly.

"To what? We both know this job doesn't give you a long life expectancy!"

"To anything! I don't want to see you hurt, ever!"

"What made you so sentimental all of a sudden?"

"This isn't a sudden thing and you know it!"

"You worry because you have this complex where you think you always have to do what's right, you feel like if you don't then you won't be able to live with yourself! You worry because you don't want to feel bad afterwards!" Natasha yelled.

"Ugh!" Clint called out in frustration. His mouth was working at a faster pace than his mind and what he said next spilled out. "I worry because I love you!"

Everyone froze.

Natasha stood there like a deer in the headlights for two seconds, but then Clint could see every single wall she had ever needed go up right in front of his face. She started to walk away from the group when Clint put a hand on her shoulder.

"Tasha." He whispered.

Natasha turned her head to the side so she could just see him over her shoulder. "Please, Clint." She said, sounding more broken that any of the others had heard her.

Clint understood and dropped his hand, letting the woman he loves walk away from him, broken, inside and out.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it, I had a lot of fun writing this and I can't believe I stayed with this story for so long! I have written some other one shots and might continue posting some depending on if I have time or inspiration. 
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter of Only He Can Hold her, and hold on to your feels, it's a good one!

Clint had taken a solo mission after that infamous night. He knew Natasha needed space and time to think over what happened, and he needed to distract his mind. All he was thinking about was that he wished he had never said it. But then there was a part of him that was glad he did. He couldn't decide which was better, keeping it in, or having her know.

He had known for a long time that he loves her. There were times when he wanted to shake some sense into her for things she did in the field, but he never stopped loving her. He didn't think he ever would.

But at this moment, he couldn't do anything about it.

Clint was in the medical wing at SHIELD's base in New York City. He had gotten out of a building that was about to collapse and he thought everyone else did too, until he saw a child in the window. He raced back into the building and shielded the child with his body on the way out. The two were just about to get through the door when another explosion sent that part of the building tumbling down. Clint covered the child's small frame with his own larger one, and the child survived, relatively unscathed. Clint, too, survived, but the doctors who were operating would not use the word 'unscathed.'

By the time the extraction team had found the two survivors, Clint had lost a lot of blood, and had to be airlifted to the base. The child was treated on site, and his parents came running. His father was in the building with him just minutes ago, but had left to make a call.

Just before the door closed and Clint slipped into unconsciousness, he heard a man's voice call out, "You saved my son's life, thank you!"

Natasha was in the small waiting area in the medical wing, sitting and waiting. She had left the tower without a word once she heard what happened. Steve had seen her on her way out, and she seemed distraught, if he could even call it that, and had Tony find out why. It took over an hour to re-hack SHIELD's database and run by Clint's files and find the most recent entry.

Tony, Steve, Pepper, and Bruce all walked into the room where Natasha was, giving her their silent condolences. Natasha glanced up at them, half wishing she could be by herself, but half happy that she didn't have to be.

"Do you know what happened?" Pepper asked as she sat down.

Natasha met the other woman's eyes. "He was on a mission, the building was falling down, and he went back in to save a child."

Steve took the seat nearest to Natasha. "How is he?" He asked simply.

Natasha didn't look up from the floor as she answered. She knew she was worried, but she couldn't let anyone see it.

"He's in surgery now, they don't know how long it will take, or if it's even going to do anything for him."

"I'm sorry." Steve said.

Bruce never really said much to neither Clint nor Natasha, if only because they were usually away on assignment, but still offered this; "We're still here for you." He said. He knew what it felt like to be alone. He knew that while Natasha might not show it, she very well may be thankful for the team's presence.

The five of them sat in silence for what seemed like forever to all of them.

Natasha sat unmoving, though obviously uncomfortable. She stared daggers into the floor, thinking about whatever she could to distract herself, but no matter how hard she tried, thoughts of what would happen to her if Clint didn't make it our of this filled her mind.

She wouldn't want another partner, she decided. She would work solo ops, staying at base most of the time. She would still work with the Avengers, but she didn't think she could handle seeing the team as much as she had recently. She wouldn't let herself get close to them. She thought about how no matter how much she didn't want to believe it, the Red Room was right. Getting too close to someone breaks you. Her life had gotten intertwined with Clint's and now she didn't know how she could untangle the mess in front of her. She wouldn't let herself do that again. She couldn't get close to the members of the team because in her line of work, death is always just moments away, and one never knows when they could be taken from this world, never to be seen again.

Natasha mulled over the situation over and over and over, a never ending circle of remembering all the good times she's had with Clint, everything they've been through, and how now, she may not leave the building with the one constant in her life.

She and Clint had had close calls before, there have been moments where they didn't know if the other was going to make it out alive. Sure, those moments had been hard, but this time it was different. This time they hadn't gotten a chance to fix things, if that's what they did in times like these. She had left. She had just walked away from him after he said those words. He told her something in the middle of a fight and she didn't know how to deal with it. He said 'I love you.' And she just turned her back and left.

Clint had left on a mission later the next day. He left her to heal on her own. She was on crutches and broken inside and out, and he just turned his back and left.

Natasha wanted so badly to be mad at him. For saying what he said, then leaving her alone to deal with something she's never dealt with before. He was supposed to be the thing to keep her grounded, to help her figure out what her life meant after the horrors of her past. He was supposed to be the one person she could trust to never hurt her. He was supposed to be the calmer one, and then he went and did what he did and she should be mad. But she couldn't be. There was no part of her being that could be mad at him. He had left, yes, but now he was on an operating table, under the harsh florescent lights that they both hated so much. He was unconscious and she didn't know if he was ever going to wake.

"Natasha?" Pepper's voice snapped Natasha out of her head.

Natasha looked up and met Pepper's eyes, her own holding more pain and worry than anyone should ever have to. The rest of her face, however, remained calm and stoic as always.

"How long have you been here?" Pepper inquired.

Natasha thought for a moment. She had been there for a while longer than the rest of the team, and by the looks of them, they had been here a while. "I left the tower just before noon."

"It's after seven now." Pepper informed her. "Tony and I are going to get some food, would you like us to pick something up for you? You must be starving."

"I hadn't even thought about it, but yeah, sure. Thanks." Natasha answered.

Pepper smiled and nodded before she and Tony left the room.

Bruce turned to Natasha for a brief moment, before turning away and asking a question he couldn't bring himself to ask to her face. "What were you thinking about?"

Natasha's body went even more tense that it had been. She cleared her throat to prevent the lump in her throat from making her do anything she didn't want to. "Nothing really, just...thinking." She trailed off as her eyes once again found the floor.

The three remaining Avengers sat silent until Steve's head snapped to the side to look at Natasha. Bruce didn't know what he was looking at until he saw Natasha's lips moving ever so slightly. Steve heard Natasha's soft voice but couldn't make out what she was saying.

"пожалуйста, проснуться, пожалуйста. Я бы молиться Богу, прося его не принимает вас от меня, а мы с тобой оба знаем, что это бессмысленно, поэтому я буду просить вас вместо этого. Пожалуйста, не оставляйте меня, не раньше я готов." (Please wake up, please. I would pray to God, asking him to not take you from me, but you and I both know that's pointless, so I'll ask you instead. Please, don't leave me, not before I'm ready.)

Bruce and Steve shared a look before Steve put a comforting hand on Natasha's shoulder. She neither rejected nor accepted it, but that was enough. Moments later though, she shrugged it off.

Pepper and Tony were walking through the halls of SHIELD that they were allowed to be in, finding their way to the cafeteria.

"Do you think Clint'll be done in surgery soon?" Pepper asked quietly.

"I don't know." Tony answered. "Why do you ask?" He added, sensing there was something other that worry for Clint in Pepper's voice.

Pepper sighed, thinking about how to phrase her words without sounding like a worried mother. "I've never seen her like this."

"Natasha?" Tony asked.

Pepper nodded.

"Like what?" Tony said.

Pepper stared at him for a moment. "Like what? Tony, you can't tell me you haven't noticed anything in the past five hours. I mean, sure, she doesn't talk much on a normal day, but this is different. Normally she'd change positions, or at least stare daggers at someone, but today? We've all been there for what feels like forever but no one's said a word, and she just sits there."

"Wouldn't you be worried if something like that happened to me?" Tony asked.

"Of course I would." Pepper said. "I would be worried out of my mind, I would be in hysterics. I would be asking every nurse and doctor that walked by. I'd be pacing and going through your suits read-outs over and over again, trying to figure out if there was something I could do to help. I would go insane if I just sat there, thinking."

Tony pulled Pepper off to the side and took both her hands in his, looking into her eyes. "I know you would Pep, most would in that situation. But Barton and Romanoff aren't most people. Most of their lives have revolved around death, that's what they deal with almost everyday. Death comes in the job description, and both of them know that what might happen today was always a possibility. Their jobs are far more dangerous than most things I would ever do. I'm sure they've been in similar situations to this in the past, and they have to come up with ways to cope with that. They've got to stay strong to be in this business."

Pepper sniffled a bit. "I wish I were that strong sometimes."

Tony pulled her into his embrace and rubbed her back. "You are strong Pepper, you're the CEO of my company, and still manage to have enough time to keep track of me. I don't know how the hell you do that, I can't even keep track of myself sometimes."

Pepper chuckled a bit. "It's not easy, Tony." She said seriously.

"I'm lucky to have you." He said back.

"You're lucky I love you." Pepper retorted.

Half an hour later, Natasha was still picking at the food that Pepper and Tony brought to her. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she ate to appease the team's nerves. She knew they noticed how different she was acting and that they were quite worried for Clint's well being, and she didn't want them to worry about her not eating as well. Actually, she was pretty thankful for the food, it was just enough to distract her, and didn't require any deep thought processes.

After Natasha finally finished the B-rated food from SHIELD's cafeteria, she almost slipped back into the turmoils in her mind, and she would have too, if it weren't for a voice calling her name.

"Agent Romanoff?" A small nurse asked.

Natasha stood up, all business, and walked towards the woman.

"Agent Barton sustained multiple life-threatening injuries and surgery took five hours, and we lost him twice on the table, but it was a success." The nurse told her.

Natasha's body visibly relaxed at the news. "If the surgery took five hours, why are you only telling me now, three hours later?" Natasha asked harshly.

The nurse looked slightly taken aback at the sudden intensity coming from the agent. "We couldn't be sure that the surgery was a success until he woke up. Doctor Stevens ordered us to wait to tell you. He said that if you knew he was out of surgery but were told not to visit him yet, you would have found a way into his room anyway, so he told us not to inform you of the outcome until we were sure."

"Smart man." Natasha said. "Can he have visitors now?"

"Yes, he can. Actually, you all can visit now if you would like." The small woman said, addressing the rest of the team.

Natasha turned to the others and nodded, knowing that they were asking an unvoiced question.

The six people walked down the hall to Clint's room, and the nurse entered first, asking Clint if it was okay that they all were there. He gave his consent and the rest entered.

Tony and Pepper stood at the foot of the bed, Pepper resting her hands on the footboard. Steve and Bruce stood off to the left side of the bed, giving Clint space, but letting him know they were there for him.

Natasha stood to the right side of the bed, leaning against the mattress.

Clint smiled a bit as the team walked into the room to let them know he's okay, and said, "Hey."

He received a small chorus of Hi's and Hey's from the group that surrounded his bed.

Natasha seemed more at ease now that she could see for herself that Clint was safe and alive.

"Hey." Clint said directly to Natasha a moment later.

"You make me wait for eight hours and all I get is a 'Hey?'" Natasha said back.

"Would a 'Hello' be better?" Clint responded groggily.

"No." Natasha said simply.

Bruce walked closer to Clint's bedside. "Do you know what injuries you sustained?" He asked.

"Yeah." Clint cleared his throat. "A building fell on top of me and some of the shrapnel and metal cut my back and my sides pretty bad."

"How do you feel?" Bruce questioned, going into doctor mode.

Clint smiled a bit. "Like a building fell on top of me."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

Bruce just continued with questions. "Did anything hit your head?"

"Yeah, I have a slight concussion and have to wake up at certain intervals for the next 24 hours or so, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"We're glad you're okay, Clint." Pepper spoke up.

Clint nodded in her direction.

Throughout the next thirty minutes or so, the team started to leave. Tony and Pepper went first, having to deal with business and press, Bruce went second, claiming that he had to do something in the lab. Steve stayed the longest, having small conversations with both assassins about nothing in particular.

"I'm going to head out," Steve started, "Would you like a ride back?" He said, turning to Natasha.

"No, thanks, Steve." Natasha replied politely.

Once Steve had left, Clint noticed that Natasha was still standing. "Why don't you sit down?"

"I was sitting in the same position for eight hours, Clint, I need to stretch." Natasha responded.

"Okay." Clint said, and looked away. He tried to act like everything was okay with the others in the room, much like Natasha had, but they both knew very well that everything wasn't okay.

Three days ago, he and Natasha had a fight, and things were said. Things that really neither of them was ready to deal with.

"Hey, Tash?" Clint asked after a few minutes of them just watching each other.

"Yeah?"

"Where are your crutches?"

Natasha nodded her head towards the chair beside his bed that her crutches were propped up on.

"Aren't you in pain?" He asked, he knew Natasha was tough, but walking, or even standing without support when she nearly broke two joints in one leg is reckless.

"No more than usual." She replied solemnly.

Clint nodded and understood. With as many injuries as they've both had, one gets used to the pain, or at least knows how to distract themselves from the feeling.

Clint was still recovering from the anesthesia and was drifting in and out of consciousness while Natasha finally sat down in the uncomfortable chair that she had moved to be right next to his bed. Natasha was just dozing off herself after a nurse had come in to check on Clint, when she heard the low rough voiced she knew so well.

"Sleep, Tasha." Clint said once he realized how tired she must be. She had been in sitting room for eight hours, awaiting to hear the verdict of his life saving surgery.

Natasha opened her eyes and looked at him, not having fully registered what he said. "What?"

"You need it. Go to sleep, Natasha. The nurses will wake me up when they need to." He explained.

Natasha was too tired to argue with that, and laid her head back on the head rest of the chair, willing herself to be able to sleep.

Clint also felt lethargy pull at his system, and let himself relax into the small bed.

Nurses came in to wake Clint at the predetermined intervals, and Natasha awoke each time as well. Clint felt bad that his condition was preventing her from getting the rest she so desperately needed, but she didn't seem to mind. He figured she didn't mind being woken up because otherwise, she would most likely have nightmares, something she didn't want anyone else to see.

The last time Clint woke up was on his own, and Natasha was still sleeping by his side. But she wasn't where she had been earlier, Natasha had pulled the front of the chair flush against the bed and was resting her head on crossed arms, face turned towards him. Clint watched her sleep for a while. She looked peaceful at the moment, nothing was bothering her in her dreams, she seemed content right where she was. Her head was right beside his arm and he reached out to softly brush a stray curl behind her ear.

Natasha's bright green eyes slowly opened at his touch, the smallest of smiles playing at her lips.

Clint felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards at the sight of Natasha's contentment.

"How'd you sleep?" Clint asked.

Natasha shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly in response.

"You have a room at this base, you know." Clint told her.

"I know." Natasha said.

"Rebel." Clint joked.

"With a cause." Natasha added.

Throughout the next two days, the rest of the team came to visit, making small talk and bringing them food from restaurants so they didn't have to eat the food that SHIELD offered. Each time they offered Natasha a ride back to the tower, even if only out of common courtesy, but each time she refused. She told them she had a room here that she was staying in, even though it was a lie, she rarely left Clint's room, even when the nurses were changing his bandages.

At ten o'clock in the morning on the third day, Doctor Stevens had said that Clint could go home that day, and that he was going to be allowed to sleep through the night.

Both agents were glad to hear that they can finally leave the base and recover back at the tower.

Natasha had just come back form showering in her room and was packing up the things Pepper had brought her from the tower. She pulled a note that she had just noticed from the bag.

Natasha,  
I was going to pack you one of your weapons, because we all know how much you like them, (which is too much if you ask me,) but Pepper refused to let me go rummaging through your things to find them. So, you're on your own for however long you're staying on base. Though, come to think of it, you probably have weapons stashed there too...  
-Tony

Natasha let out a small laugh at the last part, because she had many a weapon stashed anywhere and everywhere.

"What?" Clint asked.

"Tony tried to be nice for once but Pepper wouldn't let him." Natasha responded as she handed the slip of paper to Clint.

She went and sat on the uncomfortable chair again and picked up the book Pepper had brought her, which just so happened to be the one she started reading the one day she had gone into the library.

"Natasha?" Clint asked after a while of silence.

"Mmm?" Natasha said without looking up from her book.

"How come you stayed cooped up in this room with me instead of going back to the tower with the team?" He questioned.

Natasha still didn't look up from her place in the book, but she wasn't reading anymore. She sat silent for a moment, then thought to herself, 'We've gotta talk about this sometime.' She looked up to meet Clint's stormy gray eyes that she knew so well, and sat on the bed next to him.

"I stayed here and didn't go back with the team, because I don't love the team." She said before breaking eye contact to look at the floor.

Clint could tell it was hard for her to say that, she had been raised to not believe in such things as love. She had always been told that it would ruin her, that she would be compromised if she let herself love someone. Ivan Petrovitch had drilled that into her skull with everything that happened with Alexei, pretending to love her and wind up dead, just to show her what love does to a person. Now she was admitting, though not outright, that she loves him.

Clint looked at her for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. "Tasha-" He started, but he didn't know how to finish. He didn't want her to run away like she had so many times in the past.

He sat up properly and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he and Natasha were almost touching. After five minutes of complete and utter silence, Natasha spoke again.

"I never thought I would ever hear myself say anything like that again."

"Nat-" Clint said before Natasha cut him off.

"No, Clint, I need to say this. If I don't say this now I'm afraid I never will." She said sternly.

Clint nodded and brushed the back of his hand on hers absent-mindedly. Without thinking, Natasha moved her hand to intertwine her fingers in his.

"All my life, all I ever heard about love was how horrible it was for someone like me. 'Love is for children, Natalia, you're not a child anymore, you're a killer. Sentiment will tear you apart. No one could ever love you, Natalia.' Petrovitch would repeat it over and over again like it was my mantra. After a while, and after Alexei, I believed it. I believed it with my whole heart, and even now, a part of me doesn't want to admit that I've changed. Part of me is still back in Russia, is still Natalia and always will be. But part of me, a larger part I'd like to think, is here. Here with you and I don't want to lose that. Part of me is fighting whatever this is," She motioned to the air between them, "But I'm done letting it win."

"I'm sorry." Clint whispered.

"For what?" Natasha asked in the same tone.

Clint paused, thinking. "For blurting out those words before I was really ready to say them, before you were ready to hear them."

"You know what?" Natasha started. "I'm kind of glad you did. We've been dancing around this whole thing for a while, and we've been able to distract ourselves from the truth, but I don't think we could've lasted much longer without figuring things out."

Clint chuckled a bit, thinking about the past few months. "We have been fighting a lot like we did in the beginning."

"I don't think that will ever really change, Clint. That seems to be our thing." Natasha said.

"Keeping you around is worth the trouble." Clint said as he bumped her shoulder with his own.

"I guess I could say the same goes for you." Natasha jested, looking at him through her eyelashes.

Clint let her hand go and gently brought both of his to each side of Natasha's face, bringing her eyes to his on a level plane. He pulled her closer to him, so close their mouths almost touched.

"Hey Tash?" He whispered.

"Mmm?" Natasha hummed back like she always did.

"You don't have to say anything back, and please don't hate me for saying this again, but," He said as he kept eye contact and brought his face closer to her so that his lips brushed against hers when he said the next words, "I love you." He whispered, barely audible.

Natasha smiled lightly, the smile she reserved for moments like this, but stayed silent. They both knew she wasn't ready to set those words free, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel them.

Instead of reciprocating the words, Natasha kissed Clint softly, telling him all he needed to know without saying a single word. She placed her hands on the back of his neck, mindful of his injuries, and deepened the kiss. Clint tangled his hands in Natasha's fiery hair and they stayed that way for a while, moving in perfect synchronicity.

Sooner than they would have liked, they needed air once again. They pulled away just in time for Steve to walk in the door. He was finally giving them a ride back to the tower.

"You guys ready to go?" He said, trying to ignore the feeling that he just interrupted something.

"Yeah." Natasha said as she went to get her bag.

"I'll get that." Steve said with a smile. "You're supposed to be on crutches you know."

Natasha rolled her eyes and glanced at Clint, who had made that same observation not too long ago.

The three Avengers walked, or in Natasha's case, hobbled, through the halls of SHIELD to the car Steve had borrowed from Tony. They were the center of attention, much to their dismay, but they'd be out of the spotlight for a while soon enough.

The team, plus Pepper and minus Thor, ate in relative silence that night. Small conversations about this and that floated around, but there was one continuous conversation that was unspoken. Tony took note of the fact that the two beaten up assassins were sitting a smidge closer than normal, but decided to keep quiet. They've been through enough lately.

'Smart man.' Natasha would've said.

That night, Clint and Natasha didn't try to cover up the fact that they were both going to the same floor to sleep, and no one said anything of it.

"God, I forgot how amazing these beds are." Clint said as he practically flopped down on his mattress.

Natasha rolled her eyes yet again at Clint's actions as he patted the space next to him on the bed. Natasha wordlessly climbed in next to him and curled up against his side in that familiar way they had.

Neither of them fell asleep instantly, no matter how tired they were. They laid in companionable silence, just thinking. They both knew that things between them changed that day. They knew that they were entering new waters, something that neither thought they could ever do. The job, however, would have to stay the same. They couldn't just quit working for SHIELD just because of this new development. They wouldn't know what to do with their lives. You could say that they were married to their jobs; for better or worse, richer or poorer, through sickness and health, till death do them part. Death always has been, and always will be the dark cloud over any brightness they manage to find. These past few days weren't the first time they thought they would lose the other, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. They couldn't prevent what may happen. All they could do was enjoy the time they had, no matter how long or short that may be.

Natasha noticed that Clint was on the precipice of sleep, and she was too.

"я тебя люблю." She whispered.

I love you.


End file.
